My Summer Vacation By Emma
by MagsRose
Summary: Frohike's daughter, Emma, settles into life with the Gunmen, meets a few FBI agents and has some adventures.
1. Chapter 1

**My Summer Vacation By Emma **

**Author: **MagsRose**  
****Category: **Gen**  
****Rating:** K+** Summary: **Frohike's daughter, Emma, settles into life with the Gunmen, meets a few FBI agents and has some adventures.**  
****Disclaimers: **Chris Carter and his cohorts did not give me permission to play with their toys but since they didn't play nice with them, I seriously doubt they'll notice if I do.**  
****More Disclaimers: **Emma is mine and so is the Tougher clan. **  
****Notes:** If you're wondering how Fro ended up with a kid, please read 'A Little Frohike'.  
A big Thank You to Amy J. who convinced me that I could finish this piece. Without her help as 'Beta Supreme' and chief brainstormer, chapter 6 would be nothing but a wadded up pile of paper creating a fire hazard in the far corner of the room.**  
**

** This summer I had many adventures and learned lots of new things. One of the first things I did was to help build a new room at the place where my dad works. He used to live there with his friends before he came to live with me. **

With school out for the summer, Emma spent most of her time at the warehouse with the guys. It was novel at first but after a while she got a little bored. She enjoyed being with the guys but they were journalists and did have a paper to put out. So they were not always able to spend as much time with her as she would like.

She rode her bike around the neighborhood quite a bit. Her dad taught her to ride it shortly after her birthday. She usually left it at the warehouse because she and Frohike pretty much only went home to sleep. They spent more time at the house on weekends. Sometimes the rest of the guys would come over to make good use of the barbecue Emma had given her dad for Father's Day.

Some nights they worked so late that Emma just crashed in Frohike's old room. Frohike would sleep on the couch but was usually pretty stiff in the morning. This did not improve his usual 'sunny' morning disposition. The other three Gunmen decided it was time to put their plans to remodel into effect.

They showed Frohike and Emma the blue prints they had drawn up on the computer. It would solve the sleeping arrangements on late nights and would give Emma a project to work on. She could help with putting in the new wall, adding a door to the existing wall that faced the hallway, a few electrical outlets, an overhead light, etc. She was very excited by it all. It meant that she would have a room of her own making it easier to convince her dad they should spend the night. Frohike made it clear to Emma that this did not mean that they would be moving into the warehouse. He still felt that it was no place to raise a child, especially when she already had a nice home in a good neighborhood.

Emma wanted to discuss an idea she had with her father privately. The first opportunity came when they headed home that night.

"Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You guys, I mean, you know, the paper, you don't make a lot of money do you?"

"We make enough to get by on. But that's not something you need to worry about. Why do you ask?"

"Well, building materials are pretty expensive aren't they?"

"They can be. What's your point?" Frohike asked but he knew what was coming.

"I want to pay for it."

"No."

Emma knew that her dad didn't like to spend what he called 'her money' on stuff for himself, the other guys or the paper. They had discussed this several times when Emma wanted to help out where she thought she could: groceries, gas, etc. but she always lost the arguments. Always. This time she intended to win. She knew that her dad usually won through logic. Petulance and pleading had never worked on him but she'd learned a lot from her dad and this time she knew she was right. It was her turn to win.

"Okay, you said that I could use the money for things that I needed or wanted."

"Yes, I did but…"

She cut him off. "This new room in the warehouse is both of those."

"Both of what?"

"It's something I need and want."

"Yeah, but…"

"You guys really can't afford to put that much money into it. I have the money and it's just sitting there."

"That money is only to be used for necessities."

"This is necessary. I need my own room at the warehouse. You can't keep sleeping on the couch and you won't let me sleep on it."

"If you really want to buy something you can buy the furniture to put in the room." A bed, a little table and a lamp wouldn't be that much.

Oh, goodie! She was ready for this one. "There's lots of furniture in the guestrooms at home. I don't need to buy that stuff so let me use the money for building materials."

"It's too much money."

"No, it isn't," she boldly disagreed with him. "A new bed, a comfortable one, would be about $650. A new dresser, nightstand, a headboard, and bedside lamp could be as much as $1300. That's almost $2000." She had expensive taste. "John said that would be more than enough."

"You discussed this with Byers before you asked me?"

"No, I just asked him how much he thought it would cost. He said he wasn't sure so I said, 'Would $2000 be enough?' and he said that it would be more than enough."

"Where did you get the dollar amounts for the furniture?"

Emma shrugged, "Off the internet."

"So you're talking about brand new furniture. I had planned on getting second hand stuff."

"Ew, Dad, I couldn't sleep on a mattress from a second hand store. You don't know who's slept on it before you."

"Don't tell me you've never stayed in a hotel."

"That's different."

"How so?"

"Okay, now you're just trying to change the subject."

"No, not really."

"Well, how about it? Can I use the furniture from the house?"

"Have you thought about your clothes?"

"What about them?"

"Where will you keep them? The plans don't include a closet and we have nothing at home that would work."

"Most of them could go in a drawer," she decided but then she had an idea that excited her, "or I could get a wardrobe like in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." This book was one Emma's mother read to her when she was a little. It had been a favorite. "I've always wanted one of those and I could keep my shoes in there, too." Frohike was always on her case for leaving her shoes lying around.

Frohike didn't say anything for a few minutes. Emma continued to think of reasons to be allowed to have her way on this. The only sound in the car was the newscaster on the radio.

Frohike finally spoke. "All right."

"All right, I can get a wardrobe or all right, I can pay for the building materials, or all right, I can use the furniture from the house?"

"Two yeses and one no."

"DAD!" Now he was just messing with her head. "Which ones are yes?"

"Yes, you can use the furniture from the house and yes, I think it would be all right for you to pay for the building materials."

"So, that means no to the wardrobe. I don't have that many clothes that need to be hung up. I can always use your closet if I need to. Thank you, Dad!"

The happy dance ensued even though Emma was wearing a seatbelt.

"There's only one problem though."

Emma stopped dancing. "What's that?"

"You still need to convince the others."

"Oh." She hadn't thought of that. "What do you think they'll say?"

"I honestly don't know," Frohike admitted.

"Will you ask them?"

"No," he said shaking his head, "that's your job."

"Okay," she thought, "I can do this. I convinced my dad. The others shouldn't be too hard. Well, not Jimmy and Langly anyway."

They got to the office early the next day to catch the guys at breakfast. Langly ran off to get dressed when he heard the buzzer downstairs and Jimmy went to let them in. It was a rather solemn procession that came up the stairs into the living area.

"What's wrong?" Byers asked as they came over to the table where he was still eating breakfast.

Langly came out of his room in time to catch Frohike's answer. "Emma wants to have a 'family meeting'."

"A family meeting, huh. Is that what you think we are, squirt? A family?" Langly liked to tease Emma especially when she seemed so serious.

"Yeah, sometimes." Her answer lacked conviction but the question had caught her a little off guard. She had thought of them all as her family for sometime but had never dared to say it out loud.

Langly could tell he had made her uncomfortable. He went over to her, bent down to put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close to whisper in her ear. "Of course we are."

She smiled at that and turned to hug him then went to go sit at the table. They had scrounged around to find a bigger table a couple of weeks previously to accommodate the larger group now regularly eating meals at the warehouse. Two extra chairs had also been bought from a second hand store. These were some of the things that Emma had not been allowed to purchase.

With the dishes cleared away and everyone sitting around the table, Emma presented her proposal in much the same way as the night before to her father.

"Dad already said it's all right with him but that you guys also had to agree to let me do this." She waited for a few seconds for someone to say something. They all just sat there.

Finally Byers spoke up.

"I think we need to discuss this alone. Emma, could you go wait downstairs for a couple of minutes?"

"Oh, okay. Sure." Emma got up and headed down the stairs.

She paced around staying far away from the stairs. She desperately wanted to eavesdrop but if she ever tried to do something sneaky, one of them always called her on it. She had no idea how they knew what she was up to but they always did.

"You actually agreed to let her spend her money?" Langly was surprised. Frohike had been so adamant about not letting her buy things in the past.

"Oh, let her do this. You know she really wants to." Jimmy enjoyed being generous with his money. The sense of satisfaction it gave him far out weighed the effects it had on his checkbook.

"I don't have a problem with it," Langly said, "I'm just shocked that Frohike is up for letting her do it."

Frohike was actually very proud of Emma. Her reasoning was sound and looking up the price of the furniture on the internet showed that she had put a lot of thought into it.

Frohike looked at Byers who had not offered his opinion yet. He knew Byers would be the hardest sell. "What do you think, buddy?"

"I don't know. What if this comes back to haunt you later?"

"What do you mean?"

"We've discussed the possibility that someone could try to take her away from you. Letting her use her own money this way might look like we're taking advantage of her."

Byers didn't like bringing up this private conversation in front of Jimmy and Langly but he felt it needed to be said.

The two younger men were shocked by this statement and started talking at the same time. "No one can take her away. She's Frohike's daughter!" and "What do you mean someone could take her away from us!"

Frohike told them both to shut up. "Do you want her to hear you?" and then to Byers, "I know what we talked about but I don't think this will hurt. It's not that much money, nowhere near the $2000 dollars she thinks it could cost but she really thought it through. It's a huge improvement on the usual whining and pleading. I hate to discourage her."

Byers still didn't think it was a good idea but Frohike didn't want to put it to a vote. He wanted all of them to be on board with it. "How about this? We stipulate that this is a one-time only deal. That she will not be allowed to buy anything else."

Langly snorted, "Do you really think that will work?"

"It will have to."

Byers thought about it for a bit longer. He agreed that her argument was sound but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all a big mistake. He finally gave in. It would, after all, make Emma happy. "Go get her and tell her that we all agree."

Emma readily promised not to ask to make any other purchases for the warehouse, etc. Building materials were bought and stored in a safe, dry spot in the alley. The plans were carefully reviewed and more measurements were taken. Emma discovered that her math teacher had been right about real life applications of the math they so diligently studied in school.

She found out what the inside of a wall looked like, how the power got to the outlets and how a light switch worked. She learned what studs and dry wall were, how to hammer without smacking your own thumb or the thumb of the person who is trying to show you how to hammer.

She was even allowed to use the big miter saw but only while wearing safety glasses and with someone standing right next to her the whole time. She decided that the most important lesson had to be, "Measure twice. Cut once." She hadn't messed up that many boards but it seemed to be a favorite saying of everyone who worked with her.

All the guys worked on some part of the new room. When Byers helped, he wore jeans and a sweatshirt. This had shocked Emma at first because she seldom saw him in anything other than his usual suits. She thought he looked good in jeans but didn't say anything. She didn't want to be accused of being cheeky.

Emma had never gotten so messy in her life. She enjoyed the taping and mudding part of putting up the dry wall but didn't like the sanding. It was too hard to breath because her dad made her wear one of those white masks that covered her mouth and nose so she wouldn't inhale the dust. Painting was more to her liking even though it smelled funny.

These were all new experiences for her and she found most of them fascinating. She was quite proud of the job they had done and, when Yves came around the next time, Emma had to show off their handiwork. Yves was impressed for Emma's sake and asked when she was going to move in.

"We've rented a truck for tomorrow. So, I can stay here tomorrow night in my new room."

"What are you going to do with your house?"

"Nothing. Dad said that this is just for now and then. More now that school is out. Less when I go back in the fall."

The next day they picked up the rental truck and went over to the house to get the furniture. Frohike helped Emma choose an assortment of clothes to leave at the warehouse. When she was all moved in, they had a christening of the new addition and took some pictures to commemorate the event.

That night Emma slept in her new room or tried to anyway. After tossing and turning for a while she sighed, sat up facing the door and said, "I'm never going to be able to go to sleep with you all standing there. Go find something better to do."

Frohike chuckled at himself and his friends, reached in and shut the door to Emma's room saying, "Goodnight, honey."

"Good night, Dad.**"**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**I got to meet two FBI agents. They came to ask my dad and his coworkers for help on an important case they were working on. These FBI agents are their friends and frequently ask them to find information for them.**

Emma was out shooting baskets in the alley when a dark blue sedan pulled up and parked in Jimmy's spot. He was off visiting friends in New York and wouldn't be back for a couple of days. Emma caught the ball, holding it against her chest.

She watched as an intense looking man with blue eyes and brown hair a lot like Jimmy's got out of the car on the driver's side. He was wearing a dark gray suit. He stood looking at Emma with a bit of a scowl on his face. She stood frozen in place. She wasn't sure whether to be afraid of him or to introduce herself. She figured he had come to see the Gunmen but he just stood there waiting for something. He turned to look back at the car. Emma noticed that there was a woman still in the front seat.

The woman opened her door and got out. She had brown hair that came just below her shoulders. She was dressed in a white shirt and dark pants. She smiled at Emma. Emma liked her already but she still wasn't sure about the man. He continued to scowl at her.

Emma directed her question to the woman. "Can I help you?"

"We're here to see the Lone Gunmen," the woman told her.

"They're inside."

"Thanks." Then, "Can I ask you something?"

"I guess." Emma didn't want to be too chatty. They were strangers after all.

"Do you live around here?"

"Sometimes."

The woman looked puzzled by that answer.

The man spoke for the first time, "Come on, Monica. We don't have a lot of time."

With that Emma figured out who they were. She took a step toward them, once again addressing the woman. "Are you Agent Reyes?"

"Yes, I am. But how did you know that?"

"My dad told me about you but he didn't say that you were coming here today."

She turned to the man. "You must be Agent Doggett. My name is Emma MacKenzie." Emma moved closer to them but stopped when the scowl on Doggett's face grew deeper.

Emma wondered if she had said something to offend him.

"Your dad?" Agent Doggett asked.

"Yes, Melvin Frohike is my dad."

Both agents turned to look at each other. This was news to them.

"Come on. I'll tell them you're here." They followed Emma down the stairs. She rang the buzzer to get someone to let them in.

Langly opened the door, "Well, if it isn't the G-man and the G-woman." Emma ducked around the three of them and scurried upstairs to put the basketball away. She didn't want to miss anything and she always caught hell for leaving things, like the basketball, lying around and having to put them away later. She ran back down the stairs to hear what was going on.

They all stopped talking when she came up to join them. Her dad took her aside. "You need to go back upstairs and wait there until someone comes to get you."

"But why?" Emma wanted to know what the FBI agents had come to talk to her dad and the guys about.

"Don't argue with me about this." He took her arm and started walking her toward the stairs.

"Why can't I stay and listen? I won't say anything. I'll stay out of the way."

Frohike was firm. "No. Just do as I ask. We'll talk about it later."

Emma started to say something else but Frohike stopped her. "Not another word or you'll go sit in your room for a while."

Emma stomped up the stairs. It wasn't fair. How exciting was it to have two honest-to-god FBI agents hanging around and she couldn't even talk to them. And her dad had threatened to confine her to her room. It just wasn't fair! She decided to go sit in her room anyway out of spite. She flopped down on the bed and lay there contemplating the injustices of the world that 12 year olds had to put up with.

What were they afraid of? She wasn't a little kid. She knew how to be quiet when it was important. How come they always treated her like a baby? Her mom would never have done this to her. Her mom had always treated her like an adult. Well, kind of. But she never treated her like a baby!

What could the agents want anyway? Her dad and the guys were just journalists. They published a newspaper. That was all. Maybe the agents were some of the confidential sources that were talked about in their articles. Yeah, that would make sense. Man, she wanted to hear what they were talking about! She was learning to help with the paper. How could she ever learn if she got sent to her room when things just got interesting?

Downstairs Langly was helping Doggett by hacking into the computer system at a medical research facility. Monica watched them for a while but decided that she could be of no real assistance. She turned her mind to the second most interesting subject of the day.

"So, Frohike, you're a father? How did you keep this a secret for so long?"

"I wasn't the one who chose to keep it a secret."

"How so?" Reyes had gotten to know the Gunmen better over the last few months and now felt more comfortable around them.

"Her mother neglected to tell me about her until a few months ago when she came to say that she was dying and did I want to know my daughter."

"That's too bad about her mother but I find it hard to believe that a man of your intelligence in these days of HIV could find himself in such a situation."

"Well, Emma wasn't born yesterday. We had HIV tests and all that but her mother assured me that birth control was not a problem."

"It seems that it was a problem."

"No, not in her mind. She wanted to get pregnant. She was looking for a 'donor'."

"No offense but, she chose you?"

"Her decision. I guess she just couldn't resist the old Frohike charm."

"I guess not. It is difficult at times." She reached over and ran her fingers through his hair. He knew she was teasing him but he didn't mind.

"Listen, Monica, can you do me a favor?"

While the others were engaged with various projects and conversations, Byers went upstairs to talk to Emma. He felt bad that she'd been so quickly dismissed with no explanation. She was a good kid, just intelligent, which made her very curious. He found her in her room. She was lying with her back to the open door. He knocked.

"What?" She didn't turn around to see who it was.

"Emma? Are you okay?" She sat up when she realized it was John and not her father. It was her dad that she was really mad at.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said but her voice and her body language told a different story. He came and sat next to her on the bed. They sat that way for a minute or so.

Emma played with the end of one braid while Byers waited for her to say something. She decided to let go of some of her anger and leaned against Byers, resting her head on his upper arm. He put his arm around her drawing her closer.

Emma broke the silence. "I don't understand why I couldn't stay and talk to the FBI agents."

"They came here to ask for our help with a case they are working on. They don't have much time or we would've explained why you need to stay up here until they're done."

"Are they gone now?"

"No, they're still down there."

"What do they need help with?" Emma hoped that John trusted her enough to tell her.

"I can't tell you." Emma made a disgusted noise. "It wouldn't be safe for you to know."

"But you know and so do all the others."

"Yes, but it's not quite the same." Emma chose not to ask why not. She already knew the answer.

"It just doesn't seem fair."

"I know."

"You can't tell me even a tiny, little bit? I just can't even imagine how you could help them."

"Well, I can tell you that we find information for them."

"You do?"

"They come to us when there is something high tech they need help with." He figured such general information couldn't hurt.

"Do you hack into computer systems for them?" This he couldn't answer. He didn't want to lie to her. She would know. She'd spent enough time working with Langly to know that he could do just about anything on the computer. But he also wouldn't admit to her that they regularly did something that could get them arrested.

"John, did you hear me?" She looked up into his face.

"Yes, I heard you."

"But you're not going to tell me?" Again he didn't answer. He knew that neither confirming nor denying it would give her a good idea of the truth but he hoped that there would always be some doubt.

"Emma?" She heard her dad calling her from the kitchen. She was still mad at him so she didn't move right away. Byers gave her a push to get her up off the bed.

"Go see what he wants." She stood up reluctantly.

"Emma," Frohike called to her again, "there's someone here who wants to meet you."

Her curiosity far outweighed her lingering anger. She came out of her room to find her dad and Agent Reyes in the kitchen. "Emma, this is Agent Reyes. Monica, this is my daughter Emma MacKenzie."

Agent Reyes smiled at Emma again. "We met outside."

Emma smiled back. "Yes, we did."

Emma shook hands with her, "I'm very pleased to meet you, Agent Reyes."

"Call me Monica." At least she didn't ask Emma to call her Reyes. No one around here seemed to follow the conventions her mom taught her for addressing adults. She just waited for them to let her know what they wanted her to call them.

The two of them talked at the kitchen table since Emma still couldn't go downstairs. Frohike got them fruit juice to drink. They didn't discuss anything classified or why they had come that day but Emma was thrilled that Monica was willing to spend time with her. Emma was full of questions about what it was like to be an FBI agent. Monica was surprised that Emma had not met Mulder and Scully. Emma said that she had heard a lot about them though.

Pretty soon it was time for Doggett and Reyes to leave. Emma went down to say goodbye and possibly to meet Agent Doggett. When she got there though he had already gone out to the car.

Byers opened the door to let Monica out but Agent Doggett was standing on the other side. He came back inside with a gift for Emma.

"I'm sorry we had to chase you away this afternoon. I thought this might make it up to you." He gave her a blue baseball cap with the letters FBI on it. "This makes you an official junior FBI agent." He smiled at her. The smile reached all the way to his eyes. Emma had never seen eyes that blue before.

"Thank you, Agent Doggett." She put the hat on. It was too big. As he adjusted it to fit her, she wondered why she had been frightened of him at first.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**My father and his friends are journalists. They investigate government conspiracies and how big corporations try to cheat people. I got to go on a trip with them to investigate some corporate criminals. We went on a stake out. It was scary but also very exciting.**

Emma sat watching an old rerun of The Outer Limits. She thought the special effects were pretty bad but the story was scary anyway.

Frohike watched Emma watching TV. He felt guilty that there was so little for her to do. Two weeks earlier he had asked her what she did during the summers before her mom died.

"Sometimes I traveled with my mom. A couple of times I went to summer camp. When I was really little, she would hire someone to stay with me and we would go to all the tourist spots around DC."

"So, she got you a nanny."

"I guess you could say that."

"That's what I should do then. Get you a nanny until you go back to school."

"Very funny. I'd stay in my room all summer if you did."

"I'm just teasing." He knew that was a touchy subject. Anything that implied she was younger than her 12 years was never appreciated. "What about summer camp?"

Emma shook her head. "The best places fill up by April. Besides I would rather stay here with you."

Frohike reached over and affectionately patted her cheek. "I'd rather have you here, too."

He thought about other traditional summer activities.

"How about swimming lessons?"

"No, I've never done that."

"Well, how about it? Do you want to take swimming lessons?"

"I already know how to swim." Well, so much for that.

Emma could tell he was trying to find fun things for her to do during the summer. "I do like swimming though. They have a swim club at the Y."

"Is that like swim team?"

"No, it's just a chance to go and swim with other kids your own age."

Frohike liked that idea. At 12, her friends should be one of the most important things in her life but she didn't really have any. So the swim club would give her something to do and throw her into the path of other preteens.

But this was limited. She only went twice a week and although she enjoyed it and seemed to be making friends, it wasn't filling much of her time. And with the bulk of summer vacation ahead of her, Emma was sitting inside watching reruns of The Outer Limits.

These concerns coupled with the fact that Patty and Paul were away for a couple of weeks weakened Frohike's resolve never to take her on 'business trips' even though she frequently asked to accompany them. Whenever he and the other Gunmen needed to go away on a stakeout or just leave town to investigate a story, Emma stayed with Patty and Paul, the neighbors back at the house.

Once Jimmy had stayed with her but Frohike was never sure if Jimmy had watched out for Emma or if Emma had watched out for Jimmy. He figured that together they equaled one levelheaded adult. But Jimmy was needed for this trip and there was nowhere else for Emma to stay.

With time running out, Frohike made the decision to take Emma with them on the out of state surveillance trip. Emma was ecstatic about going. She kept this to herself as much as possible because she could tell that no one else seemed to think it was a very good idea. Traveling in the VW bus was a little cramped but they were only going into Virginia. They got two adjoining rooms in a rather run down motel just outside Richmond: one for Emma and Frohike, the second for the other three guys.

They headed out very early the next morning to do their stake out. Emma and Langly stayed in the Mobile Command Unit while the other three took video cameras that were linked to the computers in the van and picked strategic locations in the trees surrounding the parking lot of a large office complex.

They didn't fill Emma in on the particulars but she got to help monitor what went on outside. She had never seen the Gunmen use the equipment before so was very impressed by everything they did: how they talked to each other on headsets (they even let her wear one but she wasn't supposed to say anything), how they were able to track certain individuals in the parking lot as they arrived for work, and how Langly was able to identify each of these people by using some really cool software.

Jimmy started having trouble with his camera. Langly tried to talk him through the steps to fix the problem but Jimmy was intent on following his 'suspect' and was just making it worse. Langly shut down the equipment and set the password that would be necessary to turn it back on. This was something he always did when exiting the van. He told Emma to lock the doors and not let anyone in except one of the Gunmen. The last thing Langly did was to make Emma get down out of sight before he left to go help Jimmy. Frohike growled at Langly over the headset. "Do not leave her in the van by herself!"

"She'll be fine. We haven't been spotted and Jimmy's not that far from here."

It took Langly longer to find Jimmy than he thought it would. He finally spotted him crouching in the bushes on the edge of the parking lot.

"Shhh!" Jimmy cautioned.

"Just give me the camera," an irritated Langly whispered. He fixed it quickly, showing Jimmy so that he could do it next time and headed back to the van. He was about half way there when he realized he could hear Emma in his headset. She was whispering but she sounded scared.

"Langly, where are you? There are people outside the van! Langly! Dad!"

Langly started running. "Hang on, Emma, I'm coming." He could hear the others telling her the same thing.

Now Emma was no longer whispering. "They see me and they're trying to get in." Over the headset, he could hear the sound of pounding on the outside of the van and muffled voices. Emma was talking to whoever was trying to get in. "I'm not supposed to open the door."

Langly was close enough now to hear the pounding without the aid of the headset. Suddenly, it stopped. Then he could hear Emma yelling at someone to leave her alone. He ran even faster, crashing through the trees with no concern for his own safety. He must have been making a hell of a racket because all activity by the VW bus stopped as he plowed into the roadside clearing where it was parked.

There were six armed security guards by the open door of the van. One was standing behind Emma, his hands around her upper arms. When she saw Langly she started struggling again. She kept twisting around and doing her best to try to kick backwards at the man who was restraining her but she couldn't aim or put any real force into it.

The other five guards pulled their guns and pointed them at Langly. He stopped and put his hands up. "Let her go!" he yelled at them. He could hear the others coming through the trees.

Byers and Frohike also stopped dead as the guards yelled at them to get down on the ground. Byers and Langly did as they were told but Frohike's only concern was Emma.

One of the guards walked up to Frohike. "I said to get down on the ground."

"Let me talk to my daughter before she hurts herself." The guard merely grunted in response but moved aside and let Frohike go over to where Emma was still struggling, trying to break the grip of the man holding her. "Let her go," Frohike said in a low voice.

The guard did as commanded and Emma flung herself into Frohike's waiting arms. She clung to him silently. He started talking to her in a soft voice. "Listen to me." He put his hand under her chin and turned her face so that she was looking directly at him. "We've gone through this kind of thing before. Just do what they say and they won't hurt you." Now he talked loud enough for everyone to hear. "Because if they do anything, I'll hunt them down and kill them in their sleep."

Emma looked at her father. She had never seen him so angry. She believed him and she hoped the security guards did, too.

One of the guards came and took Emma by the arm. She did not want to let go of her father. Frohike gently released her arms from around his waist. "Emma, go with them. It will be okay. I'll see you in a little bit."

She reluctantly allowed the guard to put her into one of three waiting patrol cars. It drove away as soon as she was in the back seat and the door was closed. When the car was out of sight, one of the guards came up behind Frohike and hit him on the back of the head with the butt of his gun. Frohike crumbled to the ground and lay unmoving.

Jimmy watched all this from the bushes videotaping the whole time. As he was heading back to the van he could tell by what was coming over his headset that the three other Gunmen were already with Emma. He slowed down to approach the situation with caution. He could be more help if he was not taken into custody with the rest.

He arrived in time to see the guards allow Frohike to go to Emma. He didn't know why he started video taping but it seemed like a good idea. He saw Emma get loaded into the car but went back to taping the guys before the guard hit Frohike on the back of the head. This unnecessarily violent action toward his friend was almost enough to make him give away his hiding place.

But he kept his cool and taped Langly and Byers being handcuffed and put into one of the remaining patrol cars and Frohike's limp form being tossed into the backseat of the last car. Three guards remained behind. One started searching the VW bus and the other two began beating the bushes for other suspects. Jimmy backed away from the area as quietly as possible to find a place to hide until it was safe.

Emma sat in the locked room not knowing where she was or where her dad and the other guys were. She was frightened but was trying very hard to maintain her composure. A man would come in now and then and ask her questions. He said his name was Mr. Anderson. He was nice at first and gave her something to eat and drink and let her use the bathroom.

But when she could not answer his questions, he started to get mean. He didn't hurt her or anything but he kept saying that she was going to go to jail and so were her father and the other two men. And that if she'd just tell him the truth they could all go home. She kept telling him that the others never told her anything. At one point she got angry and said, "Now I know why they never tell me anything. So that creeps like you can't force me to rat on them."

Emma was encouraged by the fact that Jimmy had not been picked up with everyone else. That mean man had said her dad and two other men. She'd seen both John and Langly before they took her away. That meant that Jimmy hadn't been caught with the rest of them. If he was still out there, then he could help. She didn't know how but she had faith in him.

She needed to go to the bathroom again. It had been hours since the last time she'd gone. But the door was locked and knocking on it and calling for someone to come let her out hadn't worked. She looked up at the camera that was mounted over the door and talked to it. "Unless you guys want me to pee in the corner, you'd better come and let me out of here so I can use the bathroom."

Mr. Anderson came back. He sat down at the table in the middle of the room.

"May I please use the bathroom?" Emma asked as politely as she knew how.

"Answer my questions and you can do whatever you want."

Emma sighed. She wanted her dad so bad it hurt. Tears bit at the corners of her eyes but she would not give this jerk the chance to see that he was getting to her. She spoke very slowly. "I told you before that I don't know anything. I'm just a kid. They never tell me anything. I could make up something but I don't know what it is you think I know."

"Why were you video taping people in the parking lot?"

"I don't know."

"Who were you looking for?"

"I don't know." Emma was losing the battle with her bladder. "Please, can I go to the bathroom? I don't think I can wait much longer."

"Just tell me what I want to know."

She yelled at him. "I CAN'T TELL YOU SOMETHING I DON'T KNOW!"

"There's no need to shout." The man was smiling though. She was ready to break. "Tell me why you were video taping the people entering this building."

There were voices in the hallway. Emma thought she recognized a couple of them. The door to the room she was in was kicked open. Outside the door were Jimmy, Yves and her mom's lawyer, Clarence Brown. There was also a rather messed up looking security guard.

Jimmy went over to Emma when he saw her. He picked her up and held her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and held onto him as if her life depended on it.

Yves spoke first. "Apparently they are here. I demand you bring the others to us immediately!" The guard looked at the man who was still seated at the table.

Mr. Brown stepped all the way into the room. "I suggest you instruct this gentleman to do as the lady requested while we discuss how many laws have been broken here starting with kidnapping and interrogating a minor without her lawyer or even her father present. We can then go on to unlawful imprisonment, assault and battery, and a list of civil rights violations that will keep you and your company tied up in the courts for years to come. We could also discuss what the media will do to you. The video tape this young man took," he pointed to Jimmy, "would make interesting viewing on the evening news. Your company logo is clearly visible on the patrol cars as is the assault on this child's father. An associate of mine has been instructed to mail copies of the tape to all the major networks and newsgroups unless there is a satisfactory resolution to this matter within the next," Mr. Brown paused to look at his watch, "hour and twenty-seven minutes."

Anderson nodded at the security guard.

Fortunately, Emma heard none of this. The news that Frohike had been assaulted would have heightened her distress. She had only one thing on her mind and she loosened her grip on Jimmy long enough to tell him what she needed. Jimmy glared at Anderson and asked, "Where's the bathroom?"

"It's down the hall and around the corner."

Jimmy rushed out with Emma still in his arms.

Mr. Brown watched this exchange. "How long did you make her sit here?" When Anderson didn't answer, Mr. Brown told him, "I think we can add torture to that list."

Emma had never been so glad to see a bathroom in her life. Jimmy was waiting for her outside the door. His brow was creased with concern. "Did you make it?"

"Yes, I did. Thank you, Jimmy." He dropped to one knee in front of her and began running his hands up and down her arms and legs. He felt every inch of her head and gently pressed on all her ribs.

Emma asked him in the middle of all this, "What are you doing?"

"I'm checking to make sure you're not hurt."

"You could just ask."

When he was done he looked her right in the eyes. "Emma did they hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine. Did you find my dad and the others?"

Jimmy had other concerns on his mind. "You would tell me if they did anything to you that you didn't like, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, of course, I'd tell you. Can we go find my dad now?"

He didn't give up because she wasn't getting it. He was going to have to be more specific. He swallowed and tried again. "Did they," he nearly choked on the words, "molest you?" He started to say rape but he just couldn't. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.

Now she understood what he was asking, "No! No, Jimmy! He just kept me locked in that room and kept asking me questions. That's all. No one touched me."

He hugged her in relief. She hugged him, too, realizing for the first time that what he'd been worried about could have happened.

Jimmy let her go and stood up. Emma took his hand. They headed back to where they'd left Yves and Mr. Brown.

Jimmy recognized the sound of fighting. He started to run pulling Emma along with him. They burst into the room to find that Frohike had Anderson pinned to the floor. Byers and Langly were trying to pull him off. "Where is my daughter!" Yves was explaining that Jimmy had taken Emma to the bathroom. Nothing anyone was saying or doing got through to Frohike. All he knew was that this man had his daughter and he would do whatever it took to get her back.

"Dad!" The sound of Emma's voice brought him far enough out of his rage to realize that she was in the room.

He stopped throttling the man and turned around to see her standing just inside the doorway. "Emma." She ran to him as he got up off the floor. This time when she got her arms around him she knew that nothing anyone said would convince her to let go of him.

Back at the hotel later that night the whole story was told.

Jimmy had gotten far enough away from the van to blend in with the people heading out for lunch. He walked back to the motel room to see if there was word of the others. When he discovered that they were not there, he made a few phone calls. Yves arrived with Mr. Brown a few hours later. If they had been arrested, Yves knew that a lawyer, especially one familiar with Emma's background, would be very useful.

After some quick hacking into the security system, Yves located their missing friends inside the building. She created passes to get them around the front desk. From there she quickly located the floor where Frohike, Byers, Langly and Emma were being held. A security guard hassled them but a quick head butt from Jimmy dazed him enough to ask him a few questions.

Even with Jimmy holding the guard's arm behind the man's back, he denied knowledge of anyone being held against their will. At this point they heard Emma yell. Jimmy recognized her voice and kicked in the door of the room she was in.

Mr. Brown left after making sure that everyone was safely back at the motel. He assured them that if they needed any more help he was available. He was not happy about this turn of events but after conversing with Yves on the way down he knew that she would say everything that needed to be said.

Emma was reluctant to leave Frohike's side for the rest of the evening. He was glad they had looked for a hotel that had adjoining rooms or he probably would not have gotten her to go to sleep in her own bed. Even with the door open between the two rooms, Frohike still had to sit with her until she finally dropped off.

When he announced that she was asleep, Yves lit into them.

"I know I've asked this before but have you all lost your minds? What were you thinking bringing a child on a stakeout? She may not have gotten physically hurt but you won't know for sometime what emotional damage you've done to her."

Jimmy tried to calm her down. "Yves, we know what we did was stupid but, at the time, we honestly thought it was safe. The van was parked on a public road. There shouldn't have been any security patrols in that area."

"Yeah, lay off. Don't you think we feel bad enough as it is?" Langly was especially guilt ridden. If only he hadn't left her alone in the van. When the first security car had shown up he could have lied about why the van was parked there and gotten away with Emma.

Yves was unconvinced. "I don't know, Langly. Do you feel bad enough to guarantee that you will never do something so idiotic again?"

"And you." She turned her ire on Frohike who was once again holding an ice pack to his sore skull. "I thought you were finally acting like a responsible adult by taking care of your daughter. But then you go and do something so phenomenally irresponsible that it makes me question whether you should be allowed to have a child at all."

"Back off, Yves," Frohike said. "Nothing you say can make me feel worse than I all ready do."

Byers's main regret was that he hadn't pressed his point that it wasn't safe to bring Emma with them. But she was Frohike's daughter and the final say was his. That didn't keep Byers from feeling that Yves had gone too far with her last remark. He felt a need to defend his friend. "Really, Yves, that's not fair. Frohike loves Emma and always wants what's best for her. We all do. We couldn't leave her home alone. There was no one who could take care of her."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that getting your precious story is more important than Emma's safety and well being?"

No one had an answer for that. "You four need to be more careful. If you had been arrested, she would have ended up in the hands of Child Protective Services. Who knows how long she would have been in foster care before you'd be able to prove that someone could provide a decent home for her." Yves started packing up her things to leave. "Did it ever occur to you that there are such things as professional babysitting services? You did know that didn't you?" From the blank stares she got, she figured the answer to that one was, "No."

"She would have hated that," Frohike noted.

"She might not like it but she would have been safe at home and not locked in a room by a sadistic bastard trying to get information out of her because he was getting no where with the three of you!" She struggled to keep her voice down.

As she was leaving, she turned to tell them one last thing. "By the way, you could have asked me. I would have been more than happy to stay with her."

The four men watched Yves leave in bemused silence. Shocked, guilt ridden, and exhausted they all turned in for the night.

Frohike woke up in the middle of the night and noticed that Emma was not in her bed. He turned on the light, swung his legs around to get out of bed and almost stepped on her. She was lying on the floor next to him wrapped in a blanket.

He carefully stepped over her then bent down (that made his head pound again) and gently shook her. "Emma, did you fall out of bed?"

"Hmm?" She sat up rubbing her eyes. "Um, no, I had a bad dream. I didn't want to wake you up."

He put her back in her own bed. "Tell me about it." He had her scoot over a little so that he could sit next to her.

"I don't remember a lot about it now." She was lying and he knew it.

"Emma, if it scared you enough to get you out of bed…"

She just sighed and took his hand. "I'm okay. You really don't want to hear it." This meant, 'I want to tell you but I don't want you to think I'm silly for letting a dream bug me'.

"Emma, tell me."

She looked at him. She saw the concern in his face. "I was back in that locked room. That mean man wouldn't let me out. He kept asking me questions I couldn't answer. Then he said that if I didn't tell him everything he would kill you. I could kind of see through the wall, well in the dream anyway, and he had already killed John and Langly. That man started telling me about how he was going to kill you and Jimmy, too. And there was nothing I could do. He pointed at the back wall of the room and I could see one of the guards shoot Jimmy and then aim the gun at you. I started screaming. That's what woke me up."

"That sounds like a bad one. Are you okay now?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"That's good. Now, no more sleeping on the floor. Just wake me up if you need me."

"I just wanted to be closer to you. I'm sorry, I know I'm just being a baby."

Frohike hugged her tight, stroking her hair. "No, honey, I don't think you're being a baby. You were very brave yesterday. I know a lot of adults who would have fallen apart if they had to go through what you did."

Emma let him go so that she could see if he was telling the truth.

"Really?"

"Sure."

"You know, the whole time I kept thinking about that TV show Law and Order and how most people tell the police too much and how you said that they just need to shut up until their lawyers get there."

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, that's kind of what I tried to do. The only difference was that I really didn't know anything. I did tell him that now I understood why you guys never tell me anything."

"And why is that?"

"So that I couldn't be forced to tell anyone stuff you didn't want them to know."

"Well, that isn't it exactly. The reason we don't tell you everything is to protect you. But I think that backfired on us yesterday."

"Why?"

"Because if you had known what was going on, he may have let you go."

Emma shook her head. "I don't think so."

"You don't?"

"No. I kept telling him I didn't know anything and he wouldn't stop. If I'd known a little bit, he'd think I knew more than I was telling."

He realized she was probably right.

"Hey, you know what?" Emma remembered something about the previous day that she hadn't told him. "When I was so scared, I didn't think of my mom at all. It was you I missed. It was you wanted to be with." This realization brought tears to her eyes, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Emma." He hugged her again. Then he had her lie back down. He pulled the covers up under her chin. "Go back to sleep now. I'll be right here."

Emma had another nightmare.

This time she was standing by herself in front of a set of doors with frosted glass. Both doors had writing on them. The right hand door said, "Employees Only." The left hand door said, "Morgue." A voice was telling her, "Go ahead. You need to identify the bodies."

Now her point of view changed and she was looking at herself standing in front of the doors. She watched herself reach out and push open the door marked 'Morgue'. She stepped through the door and it swung back and forth a couple of times when she let it go. Then she was back in her own body. She was in a white room. She wasn't aware of walls or other objects in the room. The only things she saw were four shroud draped gurneys each supporting an unmoving body.

Someone was behind her but she didn't turn to see who it was. It didn't matter. This person pushed her toward the nearest body. "Go on. You're the only one who can identify them and we don't have all day."

She reached out and slowly pulled the sheet off the corpse's face. It was John. She looked at him for a second. Then reached out and touched his face. Just to be sure. It was cold. He was cold.

She moved to the next gurney. This one was Jimmy. He was cold, too. The third shrouded figure was Langly. She had to touch his face also and got the same results.

She turned to look at the last gurney. She didn't want to pull back the sheet on this one but the voice behind her spoke again, "Do it now! Come on! Everyone's waiting!" An arm reached out from behind her and pulled the sheet away from her father's face. She wanted to turn and run but she had to know. She reached out and touched his face also. Then she moved closer and kissed his cheek. "Goodbye, Papa, I love you."

Emma sat up in bed. Suddenly awake and very thankful to be so. It was still dark. The clock said that it was 4:12 AM. She sighed. This was turning out to be a very long night. She sat on the edge of the bed for a minute. Then she got up and put on her robe.

There was something she had to do to shake the effects of the dream. She went through the open door into the adjoining room. Jimmy was asleep on a roll away bed under the window. She tiptoed over to him and gently touched his cheek. It was warm. Emma hadn't realized that she was holding her breath. She let it out slowly and smiled.

She checked Langly next. He was warm, too. Neither man had even stirred but when she got to John and touched his face, he opened his eyes. Emma jumped back, startled.

Byers had been awake the whole time. He figured she was doing this for her own reasons and he'd let her finish before asking her why she was out of bed.

He propped himself up on one elbow and whispered, "What's up, Doc?" She had looked a great deal like a doctor making the rounds on the ward.

"Just checking." Emma whispered back.

"Checking for what?"

"Just making sure that everyone is okay."

"How come?"

"I had a bad dream." He waited, figuring there was more. "All four of you were at the morgue and I had to identify the bodies." She looked down at the floor. "You were all dead."

"And what is your prognosis of our actual condition."

"Everybody's fine." She sounded relieved.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, it's okay."

"You're sure."

"Yeah."

"Then you should go back to bed. It's much too early to be up."

"I know. Good night, John."

"Good night."

She went back to her own room. He waited a few seconds then got up to check on her. When he looked in the other room, she was standing by her father's bed. He watched as she touched Frohike's face with the back of her fingers. Then she turned and saw Byers standing in the doorway.

He came all the way in and helped her straighten out the covers on the bed. They were all twisted. Byers figured it must have been one hell of a nightmare. He was amazed that none of this had woken Frohike. When she was safely in her bed, he returned to his own. He'd tell Frohike about it in the morning.

Emma slept peacefully the rest of the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**I spent the weekend with some old friends of my father's. I learned to throw a ball and went to an Orioles' game. While I was visiting them I decided it was time to make a big change in my appearance.**

On the trip home, Frohike thought a great deal about what Yves had said. She was right, of course. Taking Emma with them on such a trip just wasn't a good idea. Sure they got arrested fairly often but a bit of hacking into the right computer systems usually solved that problem.

Police departments and courts were usually so busy and had so many cases backed up or so often plea bargains were made that no one noticed that their files were missing. But if the Gunmen had Emma with them, she would end up in a foster home, juvie, or somewhere else where she would be noticed. You can delete a computer file, even from CPS but a living, breathing 12-year-old child sitting in a foster home somewhere would be harder to forget making it more likely that questions would be asked.

Frohike remembered a woman named Maxine Grey who he'd met in Connecticut. She worked for the Department of Children and Families there. She would remember a child like Emma and no amount of fancy computer work would convince Maxine that the 'problem' had just gone away.

They couldn't stop doing investigative work though. He had to consider other options. Patty and Paul, the neighbors back at the house, were great but he didn't want to overtax their good-natured acceptance of Emma into their home. Yves had said that she wouldn't mind staying with Emma but she wasn't always around.

He needed someone he could really trust, someone who liked kids, someone who would understand a child who had lost a loved one. Someone who owed him. An idea began to form in his brain. He'd left the two of them, make that the three of them, alone for some time to give them a chance to finally build a life together. All the Gunmen figured that if their help was needed, it would be requested. Maybe it was time for a little visit from 'The Three Wise Men'.

Emma was doing pretty well. The whole incident didn't seem to bother her too much. She had a few more nightmares but she was still seeing the grief counselor and Frohike told her that she didn't need to keep anything hidden about what happened that day; to feel free to tell the therapist all that had gone on. Frohike was relieved that so far Emma seemed to be handling it pretty well.

The weekend before the 4th of July holiday, the Gunmen needed to go on another stake out. Emma asked to go with them.

The answer to that from all quarters was, "NO!" She was disappointed that she couldn't go but she was also afraid for them. She knew now that things could and did go wrong on these trips.

"Are you all going?" Emma asked at dinner at the warehouse. They had decided to tell her together so she knew they all agreed on it.

"Yes, we're all needed on this trip," Frohike told her.

"Then I want to come, too."

"No." He could not bend on this and trying to reason with her might make her think she could argue with him to try to change his mind. "Patty and Paul won't be back until July 7th, so we need to find somewhere for you to stay."

"How about Yves?" Emma could live with that. She was dying to see where the mysterious woman lived.

Byers had talked to Yves. "She really wanted to stay with you, Doc, but she's out of the country right now." John had taken to calling her 'Doc' since that ill-fated trip to Richmond. For some strange reason it seemed to fit and Emma kind of liked it.

"You've heard us talk about Mulder and Scully?" Frohike asked.

"Yeah." Emma answered cautiously.

"Well, how would you like to meet them?"

"That would be nice." She paused looking around the table. "But why are you asking me now?"

"They've agreed to let you stay with them while we're gone," Langly said.

Emma took several breaths to respond to that but expelled each as she realized that everything she wanted to say would be pointless. She finally settled on, "How long will you be gone?"

"Three or four days."

"Three or four days? What about the 4th of July? We were going to have a picnic at the house. With fireworks and everything."

Her mom had never let her buy anything more exciting than sparklers. Jimmy had bought a two big bags of things he called 'festival balls' and 'repeaters'. She had gone with her dad and picked out some that he said she could light herself. So, she was really looking forward to this year's celebration.

"We will try to be back in time for the picnic." Her dad put his hand on her shoulder. Emma made figure eights with her fork in the left over gravy on her plate. She knew he was telling the truth. They would try to be back but he wouldn't guarantee it. She did appreciate the fact that he seldom made promises he couldn't keep but that didn't lessen the disappointment.

Frohike took the fork out of Emma's hand and put it on her plate. He stood up, picking up his plate and Emma's and walked over to the sink with them. "Who's turn is it to do dishes?" he called over his shoulder.

"It's my turn," Jimmy lied.

"No, it isn't." Emma didn't want him doing the dishes when it was her turn simply because he felt sorry for her. "It's my day. You did them yesterday." She got up and gathered dishes to be washed.

"Oh, yeah, that's right." Jimmy was a little hurt that she wasn't going to let him get away with his deception. She must be really mad.

"I'll help you," Langly offered.

"Don't bother, I can do them by myself." Emma was working her way into a full-blown snit.

"Oh, don't be such a snotface!"

"Fine, do them yourself!"

Frohike listened to this exchange and decided that Langly had gotten himself into the situation and he could get himself out of it.

"Nope, the offer was to help. Not to do them for you."

Emma knew what she wanted to say to him but her father was still in the kitchen and she didn't feel like spending the rest of the evening sitting in her room especially if they were all leaving the next day. "Help if you want. I won't stop you."

Once the table was cleared, Langly rinsed the dishes while Emma loaded the dishwasher. They worked in stony silence. That is until Emma dropped a dish and it shattered on the floor at her feet. "Shit!"

"Watch your mouth! Your dad would have a fit if he heard you talk like that."

Fortunately, Frohike had gone downstairs. Emma bent down to pick up the pieces. "Don't move or you'll cut your feet." Emma wore shoes only when she had to and it had been too hot recently to even wear socks. She stood waiting impatiently while Langly went to get a broom and a dustpan.

With the broken pieces cleaned up, the dishwasher running and the rest of the pans, etc. washed, dried and put away, Langly went down to the work area where the others were preparing to leave the next day.

"What was that crash?" Frohike asked Langly.

"Emma dropped a dish. It broke into like a thousand pieces."

"That's good."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, I thought she'd thrown something at you."

Langly laughed. "She is in a rotten mood."

"She'll get over it but I was afraid this would happen."

"What?"

"That she would expect to go with us again."

Langly was puzzled by this. "Why would she want to after what happened last time?"

"Well, she wants to be with us for one thing. And I think she's worried that something bad is going to happen. If she's with us, she'll know what's going on."

"True. I'm sure she can think up all kinds of horrible things that could happen." Langly knew she had a vivid imagination.

"Has she told you any of the nightmares she's had since that last trip?" Frohike asked.

"A couple of them. Nasty stuff. Did you hear the one about the morgue?"

"Yeah, Byers told me that one."

"Me too. He said that she had to go around in the middle of the night and check that we were all still alive. Poor kid."

Frohike looked back towards the stairs. "What's she doing now?"

"She said she was going to pack."

"I'll go see how she's doing."

"Watch out," Langly warned, "she really might throw something if she's still pissed off."

Frohike laughed, "I'll be sure to duck."

Emma was in her room considering the assortment of clothes that she had placed on her bed. She wasn't sure what to bring. When she stayed with Patty and Paul, she could always go next door and get whatever she needed. This uncertainty was adding to her already foul mood.

"How's it going?" Her dad asked as he came into her room.

"Terrible. I don't know what I'm going to need and some of the stuff I want is back at the house."

Frohike offered some advice. "Just bring a little bit of everything. I'm sure Scully can wash anything you need to use more than once."

"I don't want her to have to do my laundry. I don't even know her. Besides I can do it myself."

Frohike was undeterred, "Why don't I take you back to the house so that you can get what you want?"

"There isn't enough time." Obviously she wasn't really looking for help. She just wanted to complain.

"Sure there is. I'm ready to go for tomorrow. Get your shoes. We're going to the house."

Emma sighed and did as she was told. She did want to pick up some nice clothes, just in case. She had no idea what to expect but she didn't think her usual shorts and t-shirts would cover all the bases.

On the drive over to the house, Frohike talked about Mulder, Scully and little William. He was trying to familiarize Emma with the family so that she wouldn't be so nervous about staying with them. Emma had heard about the two adults many times but she didn't know they had a child. Somehow that made them seem a little less scary.

Frohike explained that William had been a bit of a surprise to everyone. He was a little more than a year old now. Emma had been missing little Louie, Patty and Paul's three-year-old son. With that family on vacation and Emma not being around much she had seen very little of her small friend. So there being a young child to play with made the thought of staying with Mulder and Scully more palatable.

At the house Emma rummaged around in her closet and found two lightweight dresses and a pair of sandals that matched. She was going to have to talk to her dad about getting some new clothes. These were from last summer and she was lucky they still fit. They were a little tight across her chest and a bit short but they would do.

She threw the clothes into her bag and headed down to the kitchen where her dad was sorting through the accumulated junk mail looking for bills or anything else of real interest. She set her bag down on the counter.

"Find everything you wanted?"

"Almost." Emma opened the cupboard next to the stove and began moving the spice jars around. She pulled out three small jars: ginger, cloves and cinnamon, and placed them on the counter. Then she climbed up on the counter to reach the top shelf.

"What're you doing?" Frohike asked watching her gymnastics.

"I know there's a jar of molasses up here somewhere." She finally located the sticky brown bottle, placed it on the counter and jumped down. She tried to unscrew the lid but it wouldn't budge. She took it over to her dad. "Can you open this for me?"

"Sure." He took his gloves off, not wanting to get molasses all over them. The lid was nearly glued in place by the thickened fluid stuck to of the lip of the jar. He got the lid off and handed the jar back to Emma.

"Thanks." She looked inside to see how much was left. "That's enough for what I want." Closing the jar, she took it over to the sink to rinse it off. Frohike joined her there to wash his hands. He touched the tip of her nose with one sticky finger leaving a brown smudge on her face. "Hey!" Emma complained as she tried to clean her nose.

"You could have rinsed the jar before you handed it to me," Frohike said as he washed his hands.

"Sorry." He handed her the damp towel he'd used to dry his hands pointing out where her nose still had molasses on it. When she didn't manage to get it all, he took the towel from her, put one hand behind her head and started rubbing her face with the towel. "Stop!" Laughing, she grabbed the towel from him. "I can do it myself."

Finally clean, Emma went back to raiding the cupboards. She put two cookie sheets on the counter then opened the recipe box that lived in a corner near the sink. She shuffled through it, looking for a specific recipe. After consulting the ingredients on the card she added a box of soda to the collection on the counter. "Let's see, I know we have sugar, flour, salt and eggs back at the warehouse."

Frohike glanced at the recipe card as Emma moved away from her stash of ingredients. He opened the cupboard, took out some shortening and moved everything onto the cookie trays. Emma grabbed her bag and Frohike picked up the baking supplies and they both headed out to the car.

Back at the warehouse, Emma finished packing. Then she went into the kitchen and started on her cookies. It was quite late by this time but on the way home Emma explained that she wanted to make the cookies to give to Mulder and Scully to thank the couple for letting her stay with them. This was a huge improvement over her bad temper of earlier, so he let her stay up late to do the baking.

The smell of fresh baked cookies was a novelty in the warehouse and it brought hungry Gunmen out of the woodwork. Unfortunately, Emma insisted that the cookies were not for them. She even swatted Langly's hand with a pancake turner as he tried to take one when he thought she wasn't looking. He stalked off, his feelings more hurt than his fingers. She had never made cookies for him before. How come Mulder was always so lucky?

Early the next morning, they loaded everything into the van and headed over to Scully's old apartment where the family was still living until they could find and/or afford something bigger.

After watching Emma try to pick up her duffle bag while balancing the plate of cookies in the crook of one arm, Frohike grabbed the bag and slung it over his shoulder. After asking him to hold the plate for a couple of seconds, she said good-bye to all the guys, hugging each of them in turn, trying not to think of how dangerous this new mission of theirs might be.

Langly was the last to say goodbye. He held out his arms for his hug but Emma hesitated. "Wait, I almost forgot." She trotted over to her father to get something out of her bag. It was a big zip-lock full of cookies. She brought them over to Langly. "Here these are for you." When his eyes lit up at the sight of the cookies she added, "All of you. Sorry, Langly, you're going to have to share." She hugged him then holding on to him for longer than usual. "I'm sorry I was such a brat yesterday, Langly. I was really mean to you."

"Hey, don't worry about it, squirt. I wish we could take you with us but I would never forgive myself if something really bad happened to you."

"But what if something bad happens to all of you?"

Juggling the plate of cookies and the bag, Frohike glanced at his watch. Time was becoming a problem. "Come on, Emma, let's go."

"Nothing bad is going to happen to us. We'll see you in a few days." Langly assured her.

Emma gave him one more, quick hug, took the plate of cookies out of her dad's hands and followed him into the apartment building.

Standing outside the door to the apartment waiting for someone to answer the bell, Emma nervously asked her father, "What if they don't like me?"

He turned to look at her. "Why wouldn't they like you?"

"I don't know." She was just looking for reassurance.

He put his arm around her and gave her shoulders a quick squeeze as the door opened. "Hello, Frohike, and you must be Emma." Scully greeted them as she let them in. Emma was surprised to note that the woman looked very familiar. Her red hair, intelligent face, the tiny gold cross she wore on a necklace…Emma knew she'd seen her somewhere before.

Then she realized where. Her father had a box of photographs in his closet. Many of them were of this woman. But why did he have so many pictures of her? Emma watched her dad talk to Scully: the way he stood, his expression, his tone of voice. Scully was more than a friend to him. Much more. Emma could only wonder for a short time because the question that had just been asked of her was repeated, "Emma, did you hear me?"

"What? Oh, sorry, Dad. What did you say?"

"You have something you wanted to give to Scully and Mulder."

Emma glanced down at the plate of cookies in her arms. "Yes, I did, Ms. Scully. I made you some cookies."

"My name is Dana."

"Dana. Here, they're ginger snaps. I hope you like them."

Emma handed her the plate. "Thank you. They look delicious." Dana took the plate to the kitchen and set it on the counter. "Let me show you where you can put your stuff." She took them into William's room. There was a crib against one wall and a twin bed was set up across the room. "I hope you don't mind sleeping in the baby's room. We'll have him bunk with us so he won't disturb you."

"Oh, you don't need to do that. I don't mind sharing with William."

Frohike had hoped to see the toddler before he left. "Speaking of the little tyke, where is he?"

Dana smiled at Frohike. "He's out jogging with his father. Mulder got one of those jogging strollers so he could take William with him. He says it's to give me a break in the morning but I think he's just getting soft and thinks this will motivate him to exercise."

Frohike laughed and asked, "Too much good home cooking, huh?"

"Not unless you think he's a good cook. With me working most days, he's been playing the stay-at-home dad. That doesn't involve a lot of physical activity. Well, at least it didn't until William learned to run."

There was a noise at the front door and Scully went to check it out. Frohike helped Emma get her things settled until he could hear Mulder talking to Scully in the living room.

"That's Mulder. I'm going to go see how he's doing."

"I'll be right out. I want to hang up these two dresses first."

Frohike went out into the living room. He figured Mulder would have some questionable comment to make and he'd rather not have it said in front of Emma. "Frohike! You old dog! I always knew you had it in you!"

Scully and Frohike had ironed out all the arrangements for Emma's stay so this was the first time in a long time the two men had spoken to each other. Scully wasn't pleased with Mulder's comments though. "Mulder, knock it off. She doesn't need to hear that." Scully began unstrapping William from the stroller.

He was unrepentant but decided to save the rest of his sleazy comments for later when there were no kids around. "Well, when do I get to meet her?"

Frohike called to her. "Emma, I need to leave."

Mulder turned to see if Scully required any help with the new stroller. After he unbuckled the last strap so that she could finally lift the child out of the contraption, he turned back to Frohike and saw Emma standing next to him. The girl smiled at him and held out her hand, "Hi, I'm Emma." Mulder froze in place and stared at her. Emma let her hand drop and looked over at her dad, unsure what to do.

"Mulder, this is my daughter." Frohike said his friend's name in the hopes that he would say something.

He finally blinked and said, "I'm sorry, you caught me off guard for a moment."

"What do you mean?" Frohike asked.

"Here, I'll show you." Mulder walked past them into the living room.

Scully, with the baby still in her arms came over to Frohike and said, "I was afraid this might happen. You didn't see it, Frohike?"

Mulder came back with a photograph. In the picture was a little girl who was 8 or 9 years of age. There were quite a few similarities between Emma and the girl in the picture. Emma reached up and touched her hair. It was French braided down both sides of her head just like the little girl in the picture. She had started wearing it in two braids instead of one earlier in the summer because it was cooler on her neck and back.

"This is Samantha. She was my kid sister. She disappeared when she was a little younger than you. You looked so much like her for just a few seconds… it caught me off guard," Mulder repeated.

The timing was terrible but the guys had been waiting out in the van for too long.

"Emma, I have to go." Frohike told her.

"Dad, I …" She didn't finish the sentence in front of the others but Frohike knew what she wanted to say. He took her aside and hugged her close, kissing her forehead as he released her.

"I know, I know, but everything will be just fine. I've trusted these two people with my life many times. I know they will take good care of you." He studied her face and hugged her again. "I'd ask you not to worry but I can tell you already are. Be good. I'll call you every evening."

"Goodbye, Dad."

"Good bye, honey."

Mulder had gone to change the baby and Scully stayed in the kitchen to give the father and daughter some privacy to say goodbye. Scully moved to open the door for Frohike. "Don't worry, Frohike, she'll be fine."

"I know she will. Thank you, Scully, and thank Mulder for me."

"I will. Goodbye," Scully said and shut the door. She turned back to look at Emma across the room. The girl already had one side of her waist length hair unbraided and was working on the other.

"Do you have a brush I can use?" Emma asked. She did not want to disturb Mulder with the baby and all her stuff was in the nursery.

On her way back from the bathroom with a stiff bristle brush in hand, Scully checked on Mulder and William. They were just about done. "How's it going?" Which actually meant, "How are you doing?"

"We're good to go," said Mulder. He finished redressing William and tossed him in the air making him squeal in delight. "Do you think I freaked her out too much?"

Scully indicated the brush in her hand, "Showing her the picture helped but she's redoing her hair. She is Frohike's daughter though. I'm sure she's pretty tough."

"I'll be out in a sec," Mulder told Scully.

Emma had her hair arranged in one ponytail high on the back of her head when Mulder brought William out to the living room. She just had way too much hair and with the weather so hot it was miserable to wear it down. The only problem was that the weight of all that hair in one spot on her head usually gave her a headache by the end of the day. That's one reason she always braided it.

It was probably time to just get rid of it. She was 12 after all and old enough to decide what to do with her own hair. All she needed was a big pair of scissors. She wasn't sure if she'd have the nerve to do it but by bedtime, if she did get a headache, the decision would be much easier to make.

Mulder smiled at Emma. "Let's start over. Hi, it's good to finally meet you."

"Hello, Mr. Mulder."

"It's just Mulder."

"Dear god, another one," thought Emma but she knew his first name was Fox and no one called him that.

Mulder was still holding the baby. "And this fine lad is William."

Emma held her hands out to the baby to see if he'd let her hold him. He considered her for a few seconds then leaned out towards her, his chubby little arms reaching for her. Emma held him so that they were nearly nose-to-nose.

She smiled at him making the same kind of silly faces that her little friend, Louie, always found entertaining. She was rewarded with a delighted giggle from William. He grabbed for her glasses but she gently disengaged his fingers before he could bend them.

"He's adorable," Emma told Scully. She looked over at Mulder who had half a dozen cookies in his hand and another in his mouth, "I was going to say that I made you some cookies but I see you've already found them."

"They're delicious, thank you," he said around a mouthful.

"They're better with milk." He decided to take her advice.

The rest of the morning was pretty uneventful. Emma had brought several things to keep herself entertained including a laptop computer. Langly had set it up so that they could play games together if he wasn't busy. He'd also shown her how to connect a webcam so they could see each other. Emma plugged it in and hooked it up but she knew it was too soon for him to be online. They were still traveling and would be until early evening.

She was sitting reading a book after lunch when Mulder came in and threw a mitt in her lap. "Come on, you need to practice."

Emma picked up the mitt and tried it on. "Practice for what?"

"Fly balls, what else? Come on, you don't want to sit inside all day do you? Let's go."

"Mulder, give the girl a chance, would you?" Turning to Emma she said, "He wants you to go play catch with him."

Mulder wound up to throw the ball at Emma. "Outside!" Scully commanded, "and not with that hardball. Get one of William's tennis balls to start."

"Ah, Emma's not afraid of the hardball, are you, Emma?"

Emma gave Scully a pleading look.

"Mulder," Scully went over to him, "a tennis ball first." She took the real baseball away from him. "Why don't you two go over to the park and William and I will join you when he wakes up." Mulder tried to grab the baseball back from her. "No, I'll bring it with me when I come."

At the park Mulder and Emma threw the tennis ball back and forth a couple of times. Mulder was appalled by the fact that Emma had no idea how to throw. "You throw like a girl!" he accused her.

Emma was a little hurt by that statement. "But I am a girl."

"Sorry, that's not what I meant, well, yeah, maybe it was but…" He finally gave up. "Do you mean to tell me that you live with four men and not one of them has played catch with you or even taught you how to throw a ball? We're going to have to work harder at getting them out of that hole they call an office and into the sunshine."

Emma agreed with that but she defended them anyway, "Jimmy's been teaching me how to shoot baskets."

"Baskets? Basketball? Oh, no, baseball is the game for you." Emma could tell now that he was teasing. It was kind of fun catching the ball. She had never used a mitt before and it took a little getting used to. She was right handed and wanted to wear it on that hand but it was built for her left. Mulder said she needed her right hand free for throwing. He gave her a few pointers on how to stand and move to throw the ball farther. It really did make a difference.

"Do I still throw like a girl?" she asked after practicing for a while.

"Yeah, you do but you're getting there."

She aimed the next ball at his face. He ducked, neatly catching the wayward ball. "Hey, that wasn't nice!'

"Don't blame me, I had a rotten teacher so I throw like a girl."

Scully found them chasing each other around the park. Emma in the lead ducking behind trees and bushes trying to throw Mulder off. For his part, Mulder was not trying very hard to catch her. Scully had seen him run down enough suspects to know that this little girl was really no match for him, but the chase was the game. And they were both enjoying it. Scully was glad that she had brought cold drinks with her. They were both going to need them.

Emma spotted Scully with William in a stroller and ran in their direction stopping within five feet of them and stood there panting. "Hi!" She wasn't watching Mulder anymore but Scully was.

"Look out!" Scully warned. Mulder ran up, grabbed Emma from behind, locked his arms around her chest and rolled with her across the ground. His intention was just to grab her and spin her around but he lost his balance and had to roll holding on to her so that he would end up on the bottom to keep her from getting hurt. Emma was too shocked to even react until they stopped rolling.

"Hey, knock it off!" Emma did a mental check for broken bones. Finding none she got him to let her go and stood up. She took off her glasses to make sure they were all right, too.

"Mulder, that was too rough!" Scully admonished him. Frohike would kick their asses if anything happened to his child.

"Ah, she's all right. Nothing but a little dirt and grass stains that will wash right off." He started brushing the dirt off Emma's clothes until she stepped away to get out of his reach.

"Ow, that hurts!" Emma complained. Mulder couldn't do anything right.

He sheepishly pointed out that Emma had quite a few twigs and leaves in her hair but he didn't offer to pull them out. "It's okay, Mulder, I'll get them." She looked out to where they had been playing catch. "I don't know where I dropped the mitt."

"Don't worry. I'll find it." Mulder went in search of both mitts and the tennis ball. Scully sighed as she watched him walk away.

"He didn't hurt you did he?"

"No, he just surprised me. Can I help you with that?" Scully had pulled a large plaid blanket out of the stroller and was laying it out in a shady spot on the ground. Emma caught the far side and helped to get it straightened out. Scully had also brought lots of cold drinks, some fruit, crackers, and several of Emma's cookies.

William was getting fussy about being confined to the stroller. Scully took him out and put him on the blanket. He sat there for less than three seconds before he was off and running. Mulder returned at this moment, threw the gloves and the ball on the blanket and took off after William. "Thank you, Mulder," Scully called after him.

With William and Mulder running around in the field, Emma and Scully got a chance to talk.

"How long have you known my dad and the guys?" Emma sat on the blanket picking bits of grass and other debris out of her hair. Cutting it was sounding like a better idea all the time.

"Oh, gosh, that's been eight or nine years now. You're dad was funny the first time Mulder took me to meet The Lone Gunmen." Scully smiled to herself remembering that day. Her initial impression of the guys had not been a good one but now that they were such close friends she could laugh at herself.

"Oh, yeah, what did he do?" Emma liked to hear stories about her father.

"Well, maybe it wasn't a good idea to bring that up."

"Why? What happened?"

Scully considered Emma for a few seconds. Was 12 too young to hear that her father was, well, that he was Frohike? With Mulder around it was bound to come up. "Ask your dad. See what he says. I'm curious if he remembers."

Emma was a little disappointed by this but she intended to do as Dana suggested. "He has a lot of pictures of you."

"He does? I don't know that I've seen that many. Where did you see them?" Emma was ashamed to admit that she had seen the photos when she was snooping in her dad's closet.

"He keeps them in a safe place along with a bunch of others." Emma hoped that would satisfy her.

Dana could see that Emma was a little uncomfortable so she let it drop. "He does like to take pictures."

This was something Emma could heartily agree with. "He drives me crazy sometimes! Just when I think I can relax, there he is with his camera. Once he took a picture of me while I was sleeping! He lets me help in the darkroom and one time, when I was in there, I saw it hanging on the wall. It was so embarrassing!" Dana tired hard not to laugh at that statement.

Emma was getting frustrated with her hair. There was still a lot of junk in it and it was getting all tangled. This was why she always braided it! Scully could see that she was having trouble. "Would you like some help with that?" Emma had dealt with her hair by herself since before her mother died. She missed her mom braiding it for her. Letting someone else help would be a relief and didn't seem to be betraying her mother in any way.

"Please. That would be great. It's a huge mess."

"Why don't you take out the pony tail and we'll just start over?"

Emma pulled the elastic out of her hair and let the tangled mess fall down her back. Scully reached for William's bag and pulled out the comb she kept in there for her own use. "I only have a comb."

"That's okay. Just start at the bottom and work your way up." Emma turned around so that her back was to Dana.

"Let me know if I hurt you."

"Don't worry about it. I have a tough head. My dad keeps saying I have a thick skull."

"I'm not sure that's what he means by that."

"I know." Scully continued to tug the comb through Emma's hair while the girl watched Mulder and William play.

This was so idyllic. Emma tried not to enjoy it too much but this was a perfect picture of how families were supposed to be: a caring, gentle mother, a father who spent time with his children. Emma shook her head to bring herself back to reality. She missed her mom, of course, but she was happy with her life.

"I'm sorry. Did I pull too hard?"

"No, it's fine. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Families."

"Any families in particular?"

"Yours, mine." Emma turned slightly to see Dana. "Are your parents still alive?"

"My father died a few years ago, my sister after that. But I still have my mom and two brothers. Do you have any other family?"

Emma shook her head. "No. Not really."

"Cousins, aunts, uncles?"

"None. What's it like having two brothers?"

"Probably not all that different than living with Langly."

This made Emma laugh. "Yeah, John and Jimmy, too. They're all really nice to me although they can get kind of bossy sometimes."

"Well, there you have it. That's exactly what it's like having brothers."

"Really?"

"Do they tease you a lot?"

Emma gave a short laugh, "All the time."

"That's a brother's most important job: teasing his sister." Scully ran the comb down the length of Emma's hair. "I think I got all the debris out. Do you want me to put it back in a ponytail?"

"Yes, please." Emma watched as William did a serious face plant in the grass. Mulder picked up the squalling child and carried him back for Dr. Scully to examine thereby ending all girl talk.

The following evening, Emma sat at the computer waiting for her dad and the guys to come online. She adjusted the camera so it was pointing right at her face.

Although she said otherwise, Emma could tell that Dana was really mad at her. She told her to go wait for the call so that Emma could tell her father what she had done.

Emma didn't understand what all the fuss was about. Dana said that Emma should have talked to her dad before making such a big change. Mulder agreed with Emma. He didn't think it was all that big a deal. He said, "It's not like she got a tattoo or anything. Calm down, Dana, it will grow back."

That did nothing to improve the red head's mood. "It would have been nice to return her to her father looking the way she did when she arrived."

Emma felt bad that she had caused this disagreement between them and when she told Mulder this he reassured her that they seldom agreed on anything and that it had been that way since the first moment they met.

The connection came up. "Dana, they're online." Emma informed her. Langly's face filled the laptop's screen.

"Hey, brat, how's it going?" Langly asked.

"Hi, Langly. Is my dad there?" Emma wanted to get this over with.

"Okay, fine, don't talk to me." He used his mock hurt face.

Scully came up behind Emma and clearly wasn't in any mood for Langly's antics.

"Langly, get Frohike."

"Yes, Ma'am." Langly saluted. "Frohike, it's for you," he shouted over his shoulder. He turned back to the screen and asked, "What did you do, Emma? She looks pissed."

"You're not talking to my daughter with that mouth are you?" Frohike came into view. "Move over, punk." Langly got up and let him sit down.

"Hello, ladies. How are we doing?" Frohike asked, smiling at the two of them on his computer screen.

Scully tilted her head in Emma's direction. "Emma has something to show you."

"What?" Now he was concerned.

"Really, Dad, it's not that big a deal."

"Emma, what does Scully want me to see?"

"It was just getting to be such a pain."

Frohike sat back with his arms crossed over his chest. "I'm waiting."

Emma sighed and reached back and pulled the elastic band out of her hair letting it fall around her face. Her dad leaned into the screen to get a better look. "Turn around." She did as she was told. Her hair came to just below her shoulders and was very uneven. "Did you cut it yourself?"

"Yes," was her nearly inaudible answer as she turned back to face the camera.

"Did you bother to check with anyone before you did this?"

"Well, no but..."

"When did you decide that cutting your hair would be a good idea?"

"Yesterday."

"Why didn't you talk to me about it when we were online last night?"

She knew he wouldn't like the answer to that one but it was pointless to lie. "Because you would've told me to wait until you got home."

"Yes, I would have."

"But it's so hot and I couldn't wait. I think I'm old enough to decide what I want to do with my hair."

"I agree but the way you did it was sneaky. That's why it's a problem."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I know. We'll talk more about this when I get home."

"Do we have to?" Emma figured enough had been said.

"Yes, we do. Now put Scully back on." She was standing just out of sight of the camera.

"I'm right here, Frohike."

"Emma, go into the other room. I want to talk to Scully in private."

Emma started to protest but Mulder, who had been watching from a distance, came and escorted her from the room. Scully watched as they left.

"She's gone. I'm sorry about this, Frohike."

"Don't let it bother you. She's full of surprises."

"Is this what I have to look forward to when William gets to be that age?"

"No, I've met your son's father. It will be much worse."

Scully laughed.

Frohike continued, "Listen, can you take her to get it fixed? It looks awful. What did she use to cut it anyway? A chainsaw?"

Scully laughed again. She was glad she had talked to Frohike. He usually put things in perspective. "We've made plans to do that already."

"I'll pay you back when we get there."

"Oh, absolutely not. This happened on my watch. I'll take care of it."

"Scully, I know you guys are living on only your salary."

"It's not all that bad that I can't afford a haircut. I insist on paying for it."

"Well, thanks. Hey, if you really want to bug her, don't let her pay for it either. She'll want to and it drives her nuts when she doesn't get to pay for things."

"Thanks for the hint."

Frohike turned to what was really on his mind. "Do you believe her reasons for cutting her hair?"

"Yes, I do. We spent quite a while yesterday trying to get tangles and knots out of it after a mishap at the park."

"Let me guess, Mulder had something to do with it."

"You got it."

"So, she seems all right to you?" This concern was always in the back of his mind.

"Yes, Frohike, she's fine."

"Thanks again for taking care of her for me."

"I'm more than happy to help."

The next day, after the repair job on Emma's butchered hair, which, to her chagrin, she did not get to pay for, Mulder had a surprise for Emma.

"Here you go," he told her mid-afternoon after Scully had gotten back from work. He was holding an envelope. She took it out of his hand, looked up at him then back at the envelope.

"What is it?"

"Open it."

Emma did as she was told. In the envelope there were two tickets to an Orioles' baseball game. She looked questioningly at Mulder. "They're for this evening," Mulder explained.

"You want to take me to a baseball game?" Emma was surprised.

Mulder fought the urge to give a truly smart-ass answer. Instead he went with, "Yup."

"Okay." Emma wasn't sure what to think of this development.

Mulder was disappointed. He thought his little surprise would be met with more enthusiasm. Scully had warned him that this might happen. He pointed to the tickets.

"They're playing the Mariners."

"Ooh, I like the Mariners." Emma and her mother, Michelle, had spent quite a bit of time in Seattle over the years. Michelle had been part of the design team that worked on Safeco field. Emma had even gotten to meet some of the players but had never watched a game except on TV. "Do you think Edgar Martinez and Ichiro will play?"

"Do you mean to tell me that you'll be rooting for the opposing team?" Mulder feigned dismayed shock, but at least she now had some interest in the event. "Maybe we should sit in separate sections. I don't know if I can be associated with you." Emma had gotten used to his teasing by now so didn't worry about the imaginary threat. "Come on, we need to get going if we want to find a place to park."

"But there are only two tickets. What about Dana and William?"

"We'll be staying here," Scully informed her after hearing the question as she came into the room. "William is at an age that taking him anywhere which would require him to sit still for hours on end would be torturous for everyone involved. It'll be hard enough for Mulder to sit still that long. Can you imagine what it would be like to have both of them there?"

Emma laughed at Scully's teasing of Mulder but she also felt a little guilty. "Look if you two want to go together, I can stay and baby-sit. I've done it before for my friend Patty."

"Sorry, Emma, you're stuck with Mulder for the evening."

"Hey!" Mulder complained about all the abuse, "I'm a fun guy!"

"Yeah, but sometimes you're a bit too much fun," she told him. Scully turned back to Emma, "And besides the idea was for you to go out and do something, not leave you here with the baby."

"Are you sure?" Emma asked but she was getting used to the idea and was starting to anticipate a good time.

"Yes," Scully grabbed William as he tottered past. "We're going to have a good time just the two of us. Aren't we, sweetie?" William patted his mother's cheek, said something incomprehensible and squirmed to be let down. She set him back on his feet and he continued on his mission to spread toys all over the living room.

Getting ready to go took more time then Mulder thought. He told Emma she had to bring a mitt just in case a fly ball came their way. (Now she understood what he had meant the first day about practicing catching flies.) Scully insisted that they both wear sunscreen in case they were sitting in the sun. Emma hadn't brought a jacket with her, so Scully dug out one of her own that fit Emma well enough.

Emma didn't feel like carrying the jacket all evening because she figured it would not get cold enough to wear it but after the hair cutting fiasco, she wasn't going to argue the point with Scully.

Once they figured they were ready to go, Emma decided she needed her sunglasses and that search took a few minutes. Mulder was beginning to appreciate just how low maintenance Scully was. "Be patient, Mulder, she's just a child." Scully reminded him.

"Come on, Emma, let's go or we'll end up parking down on the waterfront and have to walk back to the stadium."

"I'm ready," she told him, trotting back to the front door wearing her prescription sunglasses.

"Are you going to wear those the whole time?"

Emma patted her purse. "No, I've got the others."

"All right, let's go!" Mulder was a little relieved.

Emma sat in their seats at the stadium and enjoyed the show going on around her. The game hadn't started yet but there were several people out on the field preparing it for the game. Some of them had huge rakes and were tidying the dirt around the bases. A couple of people had hoses and were wetting it down.

Others came out carrying a long, narrow, wooden box. They laid it down along where the foul line should be and hit it with a hammer along the length of the box. When they picked it up there was a lovely new white foul line. They moved the box farther down and repeated the process until the whole line was laid out. A different wooden box was used to create the batter's boxes around home plate.

Mulder had impulsively decided that there was something they needed and climbed over several seats to avoid making people get up so that he could go get this mystery object. Before he left, he extracted a promise from Emma that she would not move until he got back.

They had gotten separated in the crowd on the way in. He turned a corner ahead of her and when Emma got there he was no-where to be seen. So she did as her mother had taught her and stood in one place until he came back to find her. She could hear Mulder yelling her name long before she saw him and his relief was evident on his face when he spotted her.

He held her hand the rest of the way, even though she insisted that she could just walk in front of him. He wasn't going to take a chance of losing her again. Emma humored him. He was still new at being a dad. He'd get the hang of it eventually.

Mulder returned, once again climbing over the seats. Apparently he felt she needed a really big foam hand with one pointing finger that stated, "We are number 1!"  
Emma put it on her hand. "Thanks, but do you have a thick, black marker."

Mulder checked his pockets. "Nope, it looks like I left all my thick, black markers at home," he joked. "Why did you need one?"

"I wanted to write 'Mariners' on this really big!"

He took the foam hand from her and started whacking her on the head with it. Emma grabbed it back and tried to do the same to him but someone in front of them got bumped and complained, "Hey, watch it!"

"Sorry," Emma and Mulder said in unison and settled in to watch the players warming up on the field.

After the National Anthem, for which they joined in on the singing, the game began. Mulder actually allowed Emma to go get them chilidogs and soda during the fourth inning. She didn't think he'd let her go as far as the bathroom unescorted after what happened on the way in.

They ate peanuts, which a vendor was selling in the aisles. Emma almost had more fun watching him than the game. He could throw the big packages of peanuts with amazing accuracy from behind his back. The two of them also split a large wad of cotton candy and got very sticky.

During the seventh inning stretch, they all stood and sang 'God Bless America', a new tradition since September 11, but then lightened the mood with the usual 'Take Me Out to the Ball Game.' When they got to the part where everyone changed the words from 'root, root, root for the home team' to 'root, root, root for the Orioles', Emma sang 'Mariners' very loudly. Mulder grabbed her and put his hand over her mouth as the other spectators turned and stared at her. They had good naturedly put up with her cheering when Edgar made two homeruns and Ichiro made one but the song was sacred. Emma just smiled at them when she sat down. Mulder explained, "She's young. She doesn't know any better."

After eating a huge pretzel during the eighth inning and washing that down with ice cream and more soda, Emma was feeling a little woozy. The Mariners won the game but by that point Emma had been sitting in the sun too long, had eaten too much junk and had just generally over done it to do any gloating.

The walk back to the car seemed longer than it should and Emma curled up and tried to fall asleep on the way back. Her roiling stomach made that impossible.

When they got back to the apartment, Scully noted that the girl looked very pale under her tan. She had Emma get ready for bed immediately. When she was in the bathroom, Emma allowed herself to throw up. She washed her face and brushed her teeth.

Scully and a rather shamefaced Mulder were standing outside the bathroom when she came out. Scully had been reading him the riot act after getting him to admit all he had let Emma eat. Scully checked her for a fever and finding none, tucked her into bed. Emma mumbled something about apologizing to the guys when they called then fell fast asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**We had a big Fourth of July party. Some of my new friends celebrated with me.**

Frohike sat in front of the computer with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. He had not been looking forward to this conversation with Emma. He was going to have to break the bad news to her that they would not be back for the Fourth of July celebration as he had hoped. Their investigation was going horribly. Their sources hadn't panned out and they couldn't find the proof they needed to print the article.

And he didn't even get to talk to Emma. Scully said she had overdone it at the ballgame and was sleeping it off. Scully assured him that Emma would be okay in the morning but that didn't change the fact that he wasn't there with her. Of course, if he had been this wouldn't have happened in the first place. Frohike didn't really blame Mulder, well, maybe a little, but the guy was just trying to make sure Emma was having fun in her father's absence.

Scully was willing to break the bad news to Emma but Frohike felt he needed to do it. Emma was not going to be happy about this and Scully didn't deserve to be the recipient of the child's bad temper. He had set up a time early the next day to call back. Scully had to go to work but she promised to tell Emma to expect the call.

Byers watched Frohike from across the room. He felt bad for Frohike but knew there was nothing he could do about it. They were all disappointed that this trip was such a bust. There were a couple more leads they were going to check on the next day but none of the Gunmen held out much hope that they would get the information they needed.

Emma tried very hard not to show how hurt she was that their Fourth of July plans had gone up in smoke. She fought to keep her voice even when she asked why they would not be back in time. She let her dad talk for a while but then excused herself because she didn't want him to see her cry. She told Frohike that she would talk to him again that evening then went to William's room so Mulder wouldn't have to put up with her being a baby either.

Mulder talked to Frohike for a few more minutes and told him the plans that he and Scully had made when they found out that the Gunmen would not be back for the holiday. Frohike thanked Mulder but still felt the full brunt of the guilt a parent feels when his child figures out that she can not always depend on him.

Later that afternoon, when things had gone from bad to worse, Frohike's mood was so nasty that even Jimmy wanted to lock him out of the motel room. Langly had snapped at Frohike, further pissing him off. He took the keys to the van and announced that he was going to go get dinner and if anyone didn't like what he got that was just too damn bad.

Byers decided that he'd had enough. He started disconnecting the equipment they had set up in the room. Langly saw what he was up to and complained, "Hey, man, what are you doing? I wasn't done with that."

"Why don't we just leave? What's the point of staying here when there's no story?" Langly just stared at Byers. "And Frohike's going to be in an evil mood until we get him home."

Jimmy was catching on, "And if we leave now, we'll be home in time for the picnic!"

"Right! What do you say, Langly?" Byers asked.

"I'm glad someone finally suggested it." Langly took the cords from Byers and continued to take apart the equipment.

When Frohike returned with burgers and fries for everyone, he was surprised to see his three companions standing outside their motel room with everything packed.

"What the hell are you guys doing?" he asked as he climbed out of the driver's seat.

"We're going home. You coming with us?" Langly asked.

"Are you crazy? Do you know what time it is? We'd have to drive most of the night."

"Yeah," Jimmy replied, "but there's four of us. We can take turns."

Byers added, "You're all packed. If we leave now we'd get home in plenty of time to get some sleep before the evening when the real fun begins."

"Emma expects me to call," was Frohike's weak reply. He paused for a moment then went around to the side of the van and pulled open the sliding door. "I'll call her from my cell phone. Come on, load up! We're outta here!"

Emma was surprised when Frohike called her on the phone. She preferred the streaming video and asked her dad why he wasn't using it. "I'm not at the motel and I didn't want to miss talking to you."

"Where are you?"

"In the van?"

"Where are you going?"

"That's classified. I can't tell you."

Emma was getting used to being kept in the dark so didn't ask any more questions. They talked for a few minutes more, mostly about Emma's anticipation of the next day's events with the Mulder/Scullys as she now thought of them. Frohike asked to talk to one of them. Scully was at hand so Emma handed the phone to her, "He wants to talk to you."

"Hi, Frohike."

"Scully, don't let Emma know but we're on our way home."

"All right."

"I want to surprise her."

"We can do that."

Emma got bored and wandered off. This made it possible for Scully to talk freely with Frohike about the next day.

The Fourth of July dawned clear and warm: perfect Independence Day weather. Emma had made up her mind that she wasn't going to spend the day moping. Why make herself miserable and drag everyone else along with her? She put on her red, white, and blue t-shirt and a pair of white shorts and headed for the bathroom. She put her hair into a ponytail and brushed her teeth. When she stepped out of the bathroom, she could hear voices in the kitchen. It wasn't just Dana and Mulder. There was a third voice, one with which she was very familiar. She ran through the apartment into the kitchen.

"How many times have I told you not to run inside?" Frohike asked in mock anger, his enormous grin giving away his pleasure at seeing her. "Don't you have a hug and a kiss for your old dad?" Emma gave him many kisses even though he seriously needed a shave and hugged him until he wondered if she could possibly crack one of his ribs. "Okay, okay, I missed you, too, but I want to get a look at your hair."

Emma experienced a small pang of guilt at that statement but took the ponytail out so he could see what it really looked like. He turned her around so that he could get a glimpse at the back, too. It came to just below her shoulders. "Very nice. Whoever fixed it did a good job."

"You didn't like the job I did?" Emma asked with a sly smile.

"Let's just say that such things should be left to the professionals. What do you think?"

"Yeah, you're right. I did mess it up pretty bad. I didn't think it would be that hard."

"Did you apologize to Scully and Mulder for the trouble you caused?"

Mulder jumped in, "She did… several times."

"I offered to pay for the haircut but no one would let me." Emma said in her own defense. Frohike laughed at her look of regret.

"That's because I told them not to."

"Dad, that wasn't nice!"

He just laughed at her again and pulled her to him to hug her one more time. "Enough said about this?" He asked still holding her close.

"Yes." Emma was glad he wasn't mad at her. "Where are the guys?" Emma had missed them, too, and wanted to see the other three Gunmen.

"We drove most of the night to get here, honey," Frohike informed her. "They're back at the warehouse getting some sleep before the party tonight."

"You guys came all the way back last night?" Emma now felt a large pang of guilt. If she hadn't been such a big baby they wouldn't have taken the chance of driving so far when they were all tired.

"It was their idea."

"Then you must be tired, too."

"No, not really and we need to go grocery shopping for your picnic tonight."

Emma looked at the dark circles under his eyes. "Dad, don't lie to me, I can tell you haven't gotten much sleep."

Before they really got into it, Scully decided to step in. "Why don't I take Emma shopping and you can take a nice long nap here?"

Frohike tried to suppress a yawn and failed miserably. Scully's suggestion was extremely tempting. Emma could see that he was wavering. "Yeah, that would be great. I like shopping with Dana. Come on, Dad. What do you say?"

Considering that even the thought of a long nap was making it twice as hard to keep his eyes open, Frohike gave in. "Do you have your check book?" he asked Emma.

"Yes! You mean I get to pay?"

"It's your party at your house. I think you should get to pay for it."

"It's our house," Emma insisted. This was another old argument but Frohike wasn't going to get into it at that moment.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He removed a few bills and handed them to Scully.

Before he could explain, Emma complained indignantly, "I thought you said I got to pay?"

Frohike stretched and yawned again, "Emma, they are not going to let a 12 year old buy beer. I get to pay for that."

"Oh," Emma replied sheepishly, embarrassed by her outburst, "you're right."

"Yes, I am." He put his arm around her shoulders. "Now, where can I sack out before I fall over here?"

Emma took Frohike into William's room. He lay down on the bed that she had been using. She tried to take his boots off for him but she had trouble with the laces. He grinned at her attempts, sat up and deftly loosened the laces on both boots. Emma could then pull them off and set them on the floor near the end of the bed. He was asleep before Emma had a chance to wish him sweet dreams.

All four of them: Mulder, Scully, Emma and William went to the grocery store figuring Frohike would get more sleep with no one in the apartment. This worked out well since Emma and Scully had no idea what kind of beer the guys liked. Mulder, who had intimate knowledge of the inside of the Gunmen's refrigerator, had numerous suggestions. Scully gave him the cash from Frohike and told him to get what he thought was the best for the occasion.

Scully had to keep Emma from buying more food than they could possibly eat in a week let alone an evening and made several suggestions for what would be appropriate. Emma wanted to buy steaks to cook on the barbecue. Scully worried that they would be too expensive but Emma showed her the balance in the house checking account. Scully told her to get what she wanted. Knowing that the guys had been on the road for a while, fresh fruit and vegetables were high on Scully's list.

With the shopping done, Scully returned home to put William down for a nap. Mulder took Emma back to her house to get ready for the big night. They unloaded all the groceries and assorted other items. Mulder went to check out the barbecue and rearranged the yard furniture for optimum usage. The two of them quickly ran out of things to do.

So, Mulder challenged Emma to a game of basketball.

"I thought you didn't like basketball," Emma said remembering their conversation in the park.

"I never said that."

"Sure you did, that first day when you were teaching me how to throw."

Mulder shook his head, "No, I said basketball wasn't for you, that baseball was your game. I love basketball!"

Now Emma was completely confused but decided it wasn't worth arguing about. They played for about a half hour. He didn't fall for her tricks as easily as Langly and Jimmy and it was getting too hot to keep running around. She called it quits and asked Mulder if he wanted something to drink. They moved some chairs into the shade and sat down: Mulder with a can of soda and Emma with a glass of ice water. Soda just didn't sound all the good to her after the other day at the ballpark.

They sat in silence for a few minutes then Emma broached her favorite subject. "How did you meet my dad and the other Gunmen?" She had heard parts of the story but never the whole thing.

"Gosh, how much time do we have?" Mulder looked at his watch.

"Lots," Emma insisted.

So, Emma heard for the first time the entire story of the convention in Baltimore, which her dad, Langly, and Byers had attended, and how a woman that Mulder was tracking down for the FBI had fooled them.

That day in Baltimore had been life altering for all of them. One that set them on the paths they were to follow for more than a decade. Emma was enthralled with the tale because Mulder was a good storyteller and the main subjects of the narrative were three of her favorite people.

There were a few questions that Emma had never gotten straight answers to that became clear as the story unfolded. Most notable of which was the fact that they could and did hack into restricted computer systems. Mulder mentioned both Byers and Langly doing this even though, at the time, Byers was working for the FCC. Emma was no fool and knew that this information was not something to spread around as it could get everyone in a lot of trouble.

Mulder did edit out certain parts. There were some things that a 12-year-old child did not need to hear, especially when her father and his friends had come so close to getting killed.

The ringing phone ended the story. Frohike was wondering if they were still at the house. The guys were awake and looking for the party. Since everyone was now on the way, Emma could start shucking corn and getting the rest of the food ready.

Mulder was itching to fire up the barbecue but Emma insisted that it was much too early and too hot to start it yet. Emma asked him to make hamburger patties, which he did willingly.

Frohike, Scully and William arrived first. Frohike went to take a shower and get some clean clothes. He even shaved which always delighted Emma. He got a kick out of rubbing his face against hers when he had a couple of day's growth just to make her squeal. Emma really didn't mind the game but she thought he looked better clean-shaven.

Langly, Byers and Jimmy arrived in the van. They had Yves with them. She said that she seldom celebrated the holiday but was willing to spend the evening with the group.

Langly came in asking if the others had seen Emma. He kept describing her to anyone who would listen. He held his hand up to just below shoulder height, "She's about this tall and has really long, brown hair in braids." And even though Emma was right in front of him, jumping up and down, he continued to pretend she wasn't there. He finally acknowledged her presence by addressing her, "Hello, stranger, have you seen my Emma? She looks a lot like you but she has long hair."

Emma played along, "Gosh, I don't know, mister, when did you last see her?"

"It was only a few days ago. I can't imagine where she's gotten to."

Jimmy came around at that point to check out Emma's haircut. "I don't know, Langly, she doesn't look all that different to me."

Langly rolled his eyes at that comment and waited as Emma hugged Jimmy. Langly hugged her next and tousled her hair. "I could get to like it. It's much more fun to mess up without it being all braided."

Emma was the most delighted with Byers assessment of her haircut. He told her it made her look older.

They had dinner, the barbecue getting a good workout. When it got dark they blew off the fireworks. Emma really liked the 'festival balls'. They were loud and bright and looked just like the really big professional ones, only smaller.

It was scary and exciting to blow off fireworks herself. She had one of those long lighters but at times this did not seem to be long enough. After a while she got used to how much time it took for the fuse to catch fire and she made fewer unnecessary dashes away from fireworks that were not yet lit.

Frohike took several pictures. The colored sparks of flaming fireworks seen through the smoke with Emma and Jimmy silhouetted against the light made some interesting shots.

They would be an excellent addition to Emma's photo album.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 - 1**

**The Virginia Highland Games are always in July in Alexandria. This year was really special. Some friends came to join me who live in Seattle. They came all the way across the country just for the Highland Games.**

"Emma, this is Rosalie. Can you give me a call at home? We are planning on coming out to Virginia for the Highland Games at the end of July and we would really like to see you. Call me when you get a chance."

Frohike had never heard Emma mention this woman so he was a little apprehensive about giving her the message. She was outside setting up the sprinkler to water the plants in the front yard. It had been nearly a week since they had come back to the house and the garden was bone dry. While Frohike waited for Emma to come inside he dug out Michelle's old address book and flipped through it looking for the name 'Rosalie' but with no last name the search was futile. He decided to just ask Emma.

When she came into the kitchen later, he told her that he had saved a message for her on their voice mail. Emma dialed the number to hear it and got more and more excited as she listened. "I can't believe it! They're going to come all the way out here. They never do the Highland Games out here. My mom tried for years to get them to come for the Virginia Games or even Grandfather Mountain. I wonder what made them change their minds? Can I call them right now?"

Frohike tried to get a word in edgewise. "Whoa, slow down! Let's start at the beginning. Who are you talking about?"

"Rosalie and Pat. They sell Scottish swords and stuff at Highland Games in Washington and California and around there. They have a website. Do you want to see it?"

"Maybe later. How do you know them?"

"Mom and I met them when we went to a Scottish Highland Games in Seattle. Actually, it was in a town close to Seattle. What was the name?" Her brows knitted together in concentration. "It's got a funny name. Pat always calls it 'Enum-scratch'." Emma thought for a few seconds. "Enumclaw, that's it! It's like right at the bottom of Mt. Rainier. That mountain is HUGE and has snow on it all year. You can even drive up there and slide on the snow in the middle of the summer! "

Emma shook her head to get herself back on track. "Anyway, I bought my sword from them. They have two granddaughters who do Highland Dancing. I competed against them." Emma started getting hyper again. "Oh, wow, I wonder if they'll come, too. I haven't seen them in a long time. Can I call now?"

"Just calm down a minute. How well do you know them?"

"We stayed at their house a couple of times. You would like it there. They have swords all over the walls, antique ones, too. Some of them are really old! Every time we went to Seattle we would go visit them. Well, almost every time. Sometimes they weren't home. If I call now it won't be too late. There's a three hour difference you know."

"Yes, I know." Frohike considered everything she had said. She obviously liked this couple and had some history with them. "All right, let's call but I'll be on the other phone."

"Dad! They're really nice people. You don't need to worry about them."

"I believe you but if they want to spend any time with you I'd like to get to know them. This is as good a time as any."

Emma picked up the address book and flipped to the 'T' page. She ran her finger down the listings and stopped at Patrick Tougher. She dialed the number and waited for a response. Frohike left her and went into the other room and picked up the receiver just as he heard a woman's voice say, "Scottish Sword and Shield."

"Hi, Rosalie. This is Emma."

"Emma! How are you?"

"I'm all right. How is everyone out there?"

"We're doing very well. I wish we could have made it out there to see you at the funeral. How are you getting along with your father?"

"Dad, say hi. He's on the phone in the living room." Emma explained.

Frohike introduced himself to Rosalie. He was a little embarrassed that he had not said anything before. Rosalie assured him that she understood his caution. They exchanged the usual pleasantries and Rosalie asked Frohike about himself and how Emma was doing. They talked for a few minutes until Emma reminded them that she was still on the line and wanted to talk about the upcoming Highland Games. "What made you decide to come out here this year?"

"Pat wants to try to sell some of his antique swords on the east coast and we really wanted to see you, dear. We're also taking Bruce, Becky and the kids to Scotland in August so we figured we might as well leave from there and break up the long flight from the west coast." Bruce was Pat and Rosalie's youngest son. The granddaughters that Emma had competed against were Bruce's daughters.

"So, Megan and Rachel will be coming to the games, too?" Emma asked hopefully.

Rosalie knew that Emma enjoyed her granddaughters' company. "That's the plan."

"That's great!" Emma was already looking forward to the Virginia Highland Games but now…

The phone conversation lasted for another few minutes while dates and arrival times were discussed. It was decided that the family would come to visit Emma the day after they arrived. Emma wanted it to be sooner but Frohike insisted that they would be tired and would need time to get settled in before running off to see her and that she could wait a few more hours. Promises were extracted for future phone calls to give and receive directions to the house and to plan for the visit. Frohike gave Rosalie the phone number at the warehouse and his cell phone number.

Later that evening, Frohike was sitting in the living room reviewing some research he had gathered for an article on truckers illegally hauling dangerous chemicals in milk tankers. The smugglers had cleverly rigged the trucks so that if the authorities checked they would only find milk in the tankers.

After a while, Frohike realized that Emma was 'hovering'. She kept pacing back and forth behind his chair, pausing as she approached him then moving on. He figured there was something on her mind and she was trying to find a way to ask him about it. It was very distracting so he decided to put an end to it.

"Emma, what are you doing?"

"Nothing." She was still behind him.

"Would you please come and sit down?"

"Why?" she asked but sat on the couch near him anyway.

"Because you're driving me nuts. What is it you want?"

"I didn't say I wanted anything."

"Emma, you only skulk around like that when you are trying to get up your nerve to ask me something."

"No, I don't." She frowned. She didn't think she was that obvious.

"Is there something you want to talk to me about?"

"Kind of, but…" She hesitated.

"But what?" Frohike figured he'd get it out of her eventually.

"It's more like I had an idea and I want to see what you think of it."

"And you're afraid of what I'll say."

"I suppose."

"So tell me what your idea is and we'll find out."

Emma started chewing on her thumbnail. Frohike leaned forward and pulled her hand away from her face. Whatever it was, she wanted it badly. "I was just thinking about what a big house we have." He didn't agree or disagree. He waited for her to continue. "There are two guest rooms and my room is really big, too. We have 3 bathrooms and lots of people can fit around the table in the dining room." She stopped and waited for him to respond. He just nodded.

"So, I was thinking. They're coming so far and I've stayed at their house a bunch of times. It would only be polite to ask them if they wanted to stay with us." There. She had said it. Now she waited.

Frohike considered all the ramifications of this scheme. The biggest problem would be lost time for him at work but Emma had spent many boring hours at the warehouse while he worked so it only seemed fair to spend some time doing what she wanted. He decided not to give her a bad time for once. "I agree. It would be the polite thing to do."

Emma couldn't believe it! Just like that and he had said, "Yes" or had he? She decided to check. "So, you're saying that they can all stay here?"

All? Now it was his turn to check. "How many people are we talking about?"

"Four adults and three kids." She kept talking before he could say that was too many.

"Pat and Rosalie can stay in the room next to yours. Bruce and Becky can stay in the other room and the girls can sleep in my room."

"That makes six. You've missing a child."

"Oh, Ian can stay with his mom and dad." At 8 years old, Ian was the youngest child.

It would work but there was one small problem. "We're going to need to go shopping," Frohike told Emma.

"It's a little early to go grocery shopping. They won't be here for almost 2 weeks." Emma observed.

"That's good because we are going to need the time to replace the furniture we moved to the warehouse."

"Oh, that's right! Do you think we can get it all in time?"

"We'll start tomorrow but you should call Rosalie again and make sure they want to stay here. They might've made other arrangements."

Emma placed the phone call and the invitation was whole-heartedly accepted after Rosalie received assurances from Frohike that he agreed with the plan.

The next day, father and daughter visited several furniture stores. Frohike figured they needed two new beds. One of the guest rooms originally held two twin beds. It was one of these that had been moved to the warehouse for Emma. After careful measuring and rearranging the remaining furniture in that room, Frohike decided that they could fit a queen size bed in there and still have space for the other twin. The little boy would have his own bed.

Emma had a full size mattress in her room so one of the girls could share with her.

Frohike suggested a pop-up trundle bed for the other girl. Emma had no idea what that was. Frohike explained that it was a mattress on a collapsible frame that was stored under the bed. When you needed it, you rolled it out and pulled it up to the height of the other bed. Emma liked this idea; it meant that all three girls could, in essence, sleep in one bed and no one would have to sleep on the floor or on a cot or something. Emma would have to clear a lot of junk out from under her bed though.

The more Emma talked about Megan and Rachel, the more Frohike realized that these two girls were real friends with Emma. He had seen her interact with the girls at dance class and at the competitions but she only seemed to have a teammate type relationship with them.

He often worried that she did not have any close friends. Emma needed some and he didn't understand why, when she seemed like such a delightful person to him, she had no little girls friends to call and talk with for hours on the phone or just to sit around with giggling over all the things young girls find so entertaining.

Frohike was pleased that Emma enjoyed his company and that of his closest friends but it just wasn't normal. The child needed friends her own age. She needed to form relationships that would become lifelong connections, people she could depend on when she no longer needed or wanted his guidance and protection. For these reasons he was now looking forward to this large set of visitors. He wanted to see Emma interact with two girls who she seemed to consider such close friends.

Emma excitedly told the other Gunmen about her friends coming to visit. Byers was pleased to see that Emma had relationships outside their circle. Jimmy was always willing to meet and like new people but Langly was unimpressed with the news. Emma was confused by his reaction.

"Langly, what's the matter?" He had gone off by himself to work at his computer while she shared the particulars of the impending visit with the others.

"Nothing." He tried not to sound pensive but he didn't look at her when he answered her question.

"I don't believe you." He had never lied to her before so she figured something wasn't right.

"Really, Emma, nothing's wrong." Okay, that guaranteed it. He hardly ever called her by her name. He usually employed a less than complimentary nickname.

Emma moved closer to him and touched his arm. He finally looked up at her from his computer screen. "Please, tell me," Emma insisted.

"Seriously, I'm fine." She didn't know what to say. How could she convince him to tell her what was bothering him when he probably wouldn't even admit it to himself?

He turned his attention back to his computer. They'd had arguments before but he'd never just shut her out. Tears filled her eyes as she watched him and he continued to ignore her.

Desperately wanting to get through to him, Emma decided to say what was in her heart. "Langly, you know that I love you, don't you?" She didn't even try to keep the sound of her tears out of her voice. She wanted him to know just how much he meant to her.

Langly was surprised by the depth of her emotions and instantly felt guilty for the fit of jealousy he experienced when she told them that dear friends were coming to visit. Of course, other people would love her the way he did. It was unfair of him to expect her to spend all her time with just the four of them.

Now he saw that he was just hurting Emma by acting this way. He put his arm around her drawing her closer to him, then rubbed her back as she tried to pull herself together.

Frohike heard Emma crying and came over to see what was wrong. "What the hell did you do to her?" he yelled at Langly.

"Just calm down, Frohike. I'll take care of it," Langly assured him. "We just had a little misunderstanding."

Frohike wasn't satisfied, "You okay, Emma?"

Emma felt silly for getting so upset. "I'm fine," she said. Taking off her glasses, she quickly wiped the tears off her cheeks.

Frohike frowned at Langly and pointed a threatening finger at him. "I'm watching you, punk." And he left them to work it out.

"I'm sorry, squirt. I'm just used to having you to myself. You know me; I don't like to share."

Emma gave a little laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck. "No one could take your place, Langly. You're the best." Langly held her, reassured by her words. "And besides, you'll like these people. Really, you will."

Langly decided to adopt a wait and see attitude but he didn't tell Emma that.

Emma had been trying for weeks to get the Gunmen to agree to wear kilts at the Highland Games. She was met with resistance from all the guys. She thought she had Jimmy talked into it at one point but when he found out that none of the others were willing to give it a shot, he chickened out. At least she had gotten them all to agree to go to the games.

As the event grew closer, Emma talked more and more about what they would see there: sheep dog trials like in the movie Babe, a British car show, fiddle and harp concerts and competitions, and all the clan tents where you could find out which Scottish clan you belong to. The Highland Dance competitions they were familiar with but Emma wanted them, especially Jimmy, to see the athletic events.

There was Tossing the Caber, which requires the athlete to pitch an eighteen-foot pole end over end. The caber could weigh as much as 150 pounds. A perfect throw is one that goes straight over and lands facing away from the athlete at 12 o'clock. Jimmy wanted to know how they decided who got to take their turn at exactly noon. Emma explained that 12 o'clock meant the position of the pole on the ground when it landed. Jimmy still didn't get it.

Emma drew him a picture of a little man in a kilt standing on a field with the caber lying on the ground. She drew a clock face on the picture, adding all the numbers with 12 at the top where the end of the pole was. Jimmy wanted to know how they drew the clock face on the field. Emma gave up and decided he would need to see it for himself. Weight for Distance, Putting the Stone and the Hammer Throw he had less trouble understanding. Emma knew Jimmy wasn't stupid. He just took things too literally.

Yves dropped by the warehouse early one evening about a week before the Highland Games bringing dinner with her. Emma was always pleased to see Yves, almost as much as Jimmy, and the Gunmen were famous for never turning down a free meal.

While Emma was setting the table for dinner, Yves took Frohike aside and asked him in a low voice, "Are you planning on staying here tonight?"

Frohike was surprised by the question and the fact that Yves obviously did not want Emma to hear. "Yes, we are. Why do you ask?"

"There is something I need to discuss with you, all of you, but it would be better if Emma did not know about it."

"After she goes to bed would work if you want to hang around that long."

"That's what I hoped," Yves told him.

Emma talked nearly nonstop to Yves about the Games and guests coming from Seattle and the fact that these people were going to stay at her house and that Yves would really like them and would she like to come and meet them while they were there and how about coming to the Games herself because Emma would really like Yves to see her dance and on and on and on.

Frohike had to continually remind her to eat or not to talk with her mouth full. Yves attended to every word Emma said but Emma's enthusiasm did not enable her to see that there was something else on Yves's mind, something that was keeping her from fully sharing Emma's gleeful anticipation of the event.

Emma was reluctant to go to bed with Yves still there. Frohike had to insist at which point she grudgingly said goodnight to everyone. They waited about a half hour before Yves asked them all to come downstairs so they could be certain to have privacy.

Frohike flipped on the cameras in the living area to make sure that Emma did not get up and come to find them. She still hadn't caught on that there were tiny surveillance cameras all over the warehouse.

"I came to ask your help with something I've been working on." Yves began.

Langly snorted, "That's a change. Usually you trick us into doing your dirty work for you."

Jimmy started to come to Yves's defense but she had no trouble silencing Langly with a glare. "I could probably handle this alone but it could indirectly involve Emma. So I am coming to you with it."

Frohike didn't like what he was hearing. "What are you talking about? How could she be involved in anyway in something you're working on?"

"Let me start at the beginning. I have been tracking a professional art thief, a man named Colin Harris. He has a reputation for acquiring the unacquirable. He is so good that, often, it takes years for owners to realize that their works of art have been replaced with forgeries. A painting titled 'The Thin Red Line' is being shipped here to DC from Scotland. It will be displayed at the Smithsonian to whom it is being loaned for three years. I feel certain that he is coming to steal the painting."

"I thought 'The Thin Red Line' was a war movie," Jimmy commented.

"They did make a movie using the same title but it has nothing to do with the painting," Yves explained. "It depicts the battle at Balaclava between the Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders and the Russians during the Crimean War. The Scots were vastly out numbered and believed they would all die so they decided to wear their dress uniform kilts and go out in style. Only one highlander died during the fighting and they won the battle."

"Why is it called 'The Thin Red Line'?" Jimmy asked.

"There were so few of them that they stood in their red coats only two deep, all in a line facing the advancing horsemen."

Jimmy was impressed, "Wow, that's a great story! How come they didn't make that into a movie?"

Langly wanted to get back to the business at hand so he cut Jimmy off. "Why didn't this guy just steal it from Scotland?"

"It's usually on display in Edinburgh castle. Getting it out of the castle wouldn't be that difficult for Harris but I believe his buyer is here in the states. It will be much less complicated to steal it here than to try to bring across the Atlantic. It is a rather large painting and old enough that cutting it out of the frame and rolling or folding it could damage it."

Jimmy was having trouble understanding it all. "Why would you want to own a painting that you couldn't show to anyone?"

Byers explained, "Some collectors will keep famous paintings such as this to themselves or will only show them to other collectors of stolen art. They usually keep their art work in secret rooms or vaults."

"But then hardly anyone would get to enjoy them. Why do that when the painting is on display for everyone to see?"

"Some people are just greedy. It also gives them bragging rights. They have something that no one else in the world does," Frohike pointed out.

Jimmy shook his head. "That's just stupid."

"It is to you," Byers observed, "but you're not a selfish person."

Frohike returned to the original subject. "How does this involve Emma?"

"The painting will be unveiled in a special ceremony at the Scottish Highland Games in Alexandria, Virginia. I have reason to believe it will be there that Harris will make his move. My goal is to catch him trying to steal the painting and put him out of business but this is a well-attended event. Thousands of people will pass through there, some just to view the painting. I could use your assistance with catching this thief," she looked at the faces around her and saw a willingness to help. "But, Frohike, it would be better if Emma wasn't there in case something goes wrong."

Frohike shook his head. He knew this would crush Emma and he really didn't see that she would be in any danger. He could appreciate Yves's caution but he truly didn't believe that there would be a problem.

"I don't know, Yves. She's been talking about this almost from the first day I bought her home. You heard her. She has friends coming from the west coast to join her for this event. She would be in hell if she couldn't go and she'd drag the rest of us along with her."

Langly heartily agreed, "She's really looking forward to this. Man, I would not want to be the one to tell her!" Langly shivered at the thought.

Byers thought that Frohike was right but he was better at seeing things that could go wrong than his friend. "Do you think she could be in any danger from this guy Harris?" Byers wanted to know.

"No, in all the jobs he's pulled, no one has ever been hurt or threatened," Yves reassured him. "He fancies himself to be a gentleman thief like Cary Grant in It Takes a Thief."

Frohike looked at Byers who shrugged. "I gotta agree with Frohike, Yves. She's been looking forward to this for a long time. Telling her she can't go at this point because there's an outside chance that something could go wrong… It just won't fly."

"You're willing to take another chance with her safety after what happened in Richmond?" Yves was incredulous.

"This is completely different," Frohike insisted. "She will not be participating in any way. She probably won't even care what we're doing. She'll be too involved with everything else that's going on."

Yves considered this point. Maybe Frohike was right. Emma would be busy competing and enjoying the games and Yves's activities with the Gunmen's could easily go on around Emma without involving the girl.

"You're probably right," Yves conceded, "but we should still take some precautions."

"Like what?" Frohike asked. He had a few ideas but he was interested in what Yves thought should be done.

"You…or I am going to need to talk to her. She should stay away from the painting and the building in which it will be on display. And it would be best if she pretended not to know me. I will be wearing a disguise but she knows me well enough that she might see through it and draw attention to me."

"Why don't you wear one of your latex masks?" Langly wanted to know. "Then you wouldn't need to worry about her at all."

Yves shook her head. "They are not as effective in the summer heat. Sweating underneath them loosens the glue rendering them nearly useless. If I was going to be inside most of the time it would be different but this is an outdoor event."

"Anything else?" Frohike asked.

"Not at the present time. If I think of anything else, I'll let you know."

Frohike had another idea but he figured he could handle that himself. "Do you want me to talk to her, Yves, or would you like to do it?"

"I'll do it, it's my project, but if you could be nearby I would appreciate it."

"No problem."

Byers changed the focus of the conversation. "All right, now how are we going to catch this guy?"

Yves turned to a nearby computer and connected to the internet. After a few quick maneuvers, she was into the plans for the security layout at the Highland Games. "I need to find all their weaknesses. That's what Harris will look for."

Frohike sat down at the computer and started studying the system the Smithsonian had set up for the weekend to protect the painting. "They don't seem to think there'll be much of a problem. Their security equipment is out dated. A six year old could steal this painting." Frohike continued to check out the general security measures that would be in effect for the rest of the event. Byers watched over his shoulder making suggestions and observations.

Yves turned to Langly. "I need you to see if you can locate Harris." She handed him a piece of paper. "Here are all the aliases he uses of which I am aware. I need to know if he has left England and if so where he is or where he is headed." Langly had chosen another computer and was already typing. "If he's in the U.S., find out where he's staying and try to track any phone calls he's making. It may be easier to monitor the buyer than to try to spot Harris at the games or around the grounds."

"I'm on it." Langly's hands flew across the keys as he checked all modes of transportation leaving the U.K. for the names on Yves's list.

Jimmy went to go put on a pot of coffee. He could tell it was going to be a long night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6 - 1**

**The Virginia Highland Games are always in July in Alexandria. This year was really special. Some friends came to join me who live in Seattle. They came all the way across the country just for the Highland Games.**

"Emma, this is Rosalie. Can you give me a call at home? We are planning on coming out to Virginia for the Highland Games at the end of July and we would really like to see you. Call me when you get a chance."

Frohike had never heard Emma mention this woman so he was a little apprehensive about giving her the message. She was outside setting up the sprinkler to water the plants in the front yard. It had been nearly a week since they had come back to the house and the garden was bone dry. While Frohike waited for Emma to come inside he dug out Michelle's old address book and flipped through it looking for the name 'Rosalie' but with no last name the search was futile. He decided to just ask Emma.

When she came into the kitchen later, he told her that he had saved a message for her on their voice mail. Emma dialed the number to hear it and got more and more excited as she listened. "I can't believe it! They're going to come all the way out here. They never do the Highland Games out here. My mom tried for years to get them to come for the Virginia Games or even Grandfather Mountain. I wonder what made them change their minds? Can I call them right now?"

Frohike tried to get a word in edgewise. "Whoa, slow down! Let's start at the beginning. Who are you talking about?"

"Rosalie and Pat. They sell Scottish swords and stuff at Highland Games in Washington and California and around there. They have a website. Do you want to see it?"

"Maybe later. How do you know them?"

"Mom and I met them when we went to a Scottish Highland Games in Seattle. Actually, it was in a town close to Seattle. What was the name?" Her brows knitted together in concentration. "It's got a funny name. Pat always calls it 'Enum-scratch'." Emma thought for a few seconds. "Enumclaw, that's it! It's like right at the bottom of Mt. Rainier. That mountain is HUGE and has snow on it all year. You can even drive up there and slide on the snow in the middle of the summer! "

Emma shook her head to get herself back on track. "Anyway, I bought my sword from them. They have two granddaughters who do Highland Dancing. I competed against them." Emma started getting hyper again. "Oh, wow, I wonder if they'll come, too. I haven't seen them in a long time. Can I call now?"

"Just calm down a minute. How well do you know them?"

"We stayed at their house a couple of times. You would like it there. They have swords all over the walls, antique ones, too. Some of them are really old! Every time we went to Seattle we would go visit them. Well, almost every time. Sometimes they weren't home. If I call now it won't be too late. There's a three hour difference you know."

"Yes, I know." Frohike considered everything she had said. She obviously liked this couple and had some history with them. "All right, let's call but I'll be on the other phone."

"Dad! They're really nice people. You don't need to worry about them."

"I believe you but if they want to spend any time with you I'd like to get to know them. This is as good a time as any."

Emma picked up the address book and flipped to the 'T' page. She ran her finger down the listings and stopped at Patrick Tougher. She dialed the number and waited for a response. Frohike left her and went into the other room and picked up the receiver just as he heard a woman's voice say, "Scottish Sword and Shield."

"Hi, Rosalie. This is Emma."

"Emma! How are you?"

"I'm all right. How is everyone out there?"

"We're doing very well. I wish we could have made it out there to see you at the funeral. How are you getting along with your father?"

"Dad, say hi. He's on the phone in the living room." Emma explained.

Frohike introduced himself to Rosalie. He was a little embarrassed that he had not said anything before. Rosalie assured him that she understood his caution. They exchanged the usual pleasantries and Rosalie asked Frohike about himself and how Emma was doing. They talked for a few minutes until Emma reminded them that she was still on the line and wanted to talk about the upcoming Highland Games. "What made you decide to come out here this year?"

"Pat wants to try to sell some of his antique swords on the east coast and we really wanted to see you, dear. We're also taking Bruce, Becky and the kids to Scotland in August so we figured we might as well leave from there and break up the long flight from the west coast." Bruce was Pat and Rosalie's youngest son. The granddaughters that Emma had competed against were Bruce's daughters.

"So, Megan and Rachel will be coming to the games, too?" Emma asked hopefully.

Rosalie knew that Emma enjoyed her granddaughters' company. "That's the plan."

"That's great!" Emma was already looking forward to the Virginia Highland Games but now…

The phone conversation lasted for another few minutes while dates and arrival times were discussed. It was decided that the family would come to visit Emma the day after they arrived. Emma wanted it to be sooner but Frohike insisted that they would be tired and would need time to get settled in before running off to see her and that she could wait a few more hours. Promises were extracted for future phone calls to give and receive directions to the house and to plan for the visit. Frohike gave Rosalie the phone number at the warehouse and his cell phone number.

Later that evening, Frohike was sitting in the living room reviewing some research he had gathered for an article on truckers illegally hauling dangerous chemicals in milk tankers. The smugglers had cleverly rigged the trucks so that if the authorities checked they would only find milk in the tankers.

After a while, Frohike realized that Emma was 'hovering'. She kept pacing back and forth behind his chair, pausing as she approached him then moving on. He figured there was something on her mind and she was trying to find a way to ask him about it. It was very distracting so he decided to put an end to it.

"Emma, what are you doing?"

"Nothing." She was still behind him.

"Would you please come and sit down?"

"Why?" she asked but sat on the couch near him anyway.

"Because you're driving me nuts. What is it you want?"

"I didn't say I wanted anything."

"Emma, you only skulk around like that when you are trying to get up your nerve to ask me something."

"No, I don't." She frowned. She didn't think she was that obvious.

"Is there something you want to talk to me about?"

"Kind of, but…" She hesitated.

"But what?" Frohike figured he'd get it out of her eventually.

"It's more like I had an idea and I want to see what you think of it."

"And you're afraid of what I'll say."

"I suppose."

"So tell me what your idea is and we'll find out."

Emma started chewing on her thumbnail. Frohike leaned forward and pulled her hand away from her face. Whatever it was, she wanted it badly. "I was just thinking about what a big house we have." He didn't agree or disagree. He waited for her to continue. "There are two guest rooms and my room is really big, too. We have 3 bathrooms and lots of people can fit around the table in the dining room." She stopped and waited for him to respond. He just nodded.

"So, I was thinking. They're coming so far and I've stayed at their house a bunch of times. It would only be polite to ask them if they wanted to stay with us." There. She had said it. Now she waited.

Frohike considered all the ramifications of this scheme. The biggest problem would be lost time for him at work but Emma had spent many boring hours at the warehouse while he worked so it only seemed fair to spend some time doing what she wanted. He decided not to give her a bad time for once. "I agree. It would be the polite thing to do."

Emma couldn't believe it! Just like that and he had said, "Yes" or had he? She decided to check. "So, you're saying that they can all stay here?"

All? Now it was his turn to check. "How many people are we talking about?"

"Four adults and three kids." She kept talking before he could say that was too many.

"Pat and Rosalie can stay in the room next to yours. Bruce and Becky can stay in the other room and the girls can sleep in my room."

"That makes six. You've missing a child."

"Oh, Ian can stay with his mom and dad." At 8 years old, Ian was the youngest child.

It would work but there was one small problem. "We're going to need to go shopping," Frohike told Emma.

"It's a little early to go grocery shopping. They won't be here for almost 2 weeks." Emma observed.

"That's good because we are going to need the time to replace the furniture we moved to the warehouse."

"Oh, that's right! Do you think we can get it all in time?"

"We'll start tomorrow but you should call Rosalie again and make sure they want to stay here. They might've made other arrangements."

Emma placed the phone call and the invitation was whole-heartedly accepted after Rosalie received assurances from Frohike that he agreed with the plan.

The next day, father and daughter visited several furniture stores. Frohike figured they needed two new beds. One of the guest rooms originally held two twin beds. It was one of these that had been moved to the warehouse for Emma. After careful measuring and rearranging the remaining furniture in that room, Frohike decided that they could fit a queen size bed in there and still have space for the other twin. The little boy would have his own bed.

Emma had a full size mattress in her room so one of the girls could share with her.

Frohike suggested a pop-up trundle bed for the other girl. Emma had no idea what that was. Frohike explained that it was a mattress on a collapsible frame that was stored under the bed. When you needed it, you rolled it out and pulled it up to the height of the other bed. Emma liked this idea; it meant that all three girls could, in essence, sleep in one bed and no one would have to sleep on the floor or on a cot or something. Emma would have to clear a lot of junk out from under her bed though.

The more Emma talked about Megan and Rachel, the more Frohike realized that these two girls were real friends with Emma. He had seen her interact with the girls at dance class and at the competitions but she only seemed to have a teammate type relationship with them.

He often worried that she did not have any close friends. Emma needed some and he didn't understand why, when she seemed like such a delightful person to him, she had no little girls friends to call and talk with for hours on the phone or just to sit around with giggling over all the things young girls find so entertaining.

Frohike was pleased that Emma enjoyed his company and that of his closest friends but it just wasn't normal. The child needed friends her own age. She needed to form relationships that would become lifelong connections, people she could depend on when she no longer needed or wanted his guidance and protection. For these reasons he was now looking forward to this large set of visitors. He wanted to see Emma interact with two girls who she seemed to consider such close friends.

Emma excitedly told the other Gunmen about her friends coming to visit. Byers was pleased to see that Emma had relationships outside their circle. Jimmy was always willing to meet and like new people but Langly was unimpressed with the news. Emma was confused by his reaction.

"Langly, what's the matter?" He had gone off by himself to work at his computer while she shared the particulars of the impending visit with the others.

"Nothing." He tried not to sound pensive but he didn't look at her when he answered her question.

"I don't believe you." He had never lied to her before so she figured something wasn't right.

"Really, Emma, nothing's wrong." Okay, that guaranteed it. He hardly ever called her by her name. He usually employed a less than complimentary nickname.

Emma moved closer to him and touched his arm. He finally looked up at her from his computer screen. "Please, tell me," Emma insisted.

"Seriously, I'm fine." She didn't know what to say. How could she convince him to tell her what was bothering him when he probably wouldn't even admit it to himself?

He turned his attention back to his computer. They'd had arguments before but he'd never just shut her out. Tears filled her eyes as she watched him and he continued to ignore her.

Desperately wanting to get through to him, Emma decided to say what was in her heart. "Langly, you know that I love you, don't you?" She didn't even try to keep the sound of her tears out of her voice. She wanted him to know just how much he meant to her.

Langly was surprised by the depth of her emotions and instantly felt guilty for the fit of jealousy he experienced when she told them that dear friends were coming to visit. Of course, other people would love her the way he did. It was unfair of him to expect her to spend all her time with just the four of them.

Now he saw that he was just hurting Emma by acting this way. He put his arm around her drawing her closer to him, then rubbed her back as she tried to pull herself together.

Frohike heard Emma crying and came over to see what was wrong. "What the hell did you do to her?" he yelled at Langly.

"Just calm down, Frohike. I'll take care of it," Langly assured him. "We just had a little misunderstanding."

Frohike wasn't satisfied, "You okay, Emma?"

Emma felt silly for getting so upset. "I'm fine," she said. Taking off her glasses, she quickly wiped the tears off her cheeks.

Frohike frowned at Langly and pointed a threatening finger at him. "I'm watching you, punk." And he left them to work it out.

"I'm sorry, squirt. I'm just used to having you to myself. You know me; I don't like to share."

Emma gave a little laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck. "No one could take your place, Langly. You're the best." Langly held her, reassured by her words. "And besides, you'll like these people. Really, you will."

Langly decided to adopt a wait and see attitude but he didn't tell Emma that.

Emma had been trying for weeks to get the Gunmen to agree to wear kilts at the Highland Games. She was met with resistance from all the guys. She thought she had Jimmy talked into it at one point but when he found out that none of the others were willing to give it a shot, he chickened out. At least she had gotten them all to agree to go to the games.

As the event grew closer, Emma talked more and more about what they would see there: sheep dog trials like in the movie Babe, a British car show, fiddle and harp concerts and competitions, and all the clan tents where you could find out which Scottish clan you belong to. The Highland Dance competitions they were familiar with but Emma wanted them, especially Jimmy, to see the athletic events.

There was Tossing the Caber, which requires the athlete to pitch an eighteen-foot pole end over end. The caber could weigh as much as 150 pounds. A perfect throw is one that goes straight over and lands facing away from the athlete at 12 o'clock. Jimmy wanted to know how they decided who got to take their turn at exactly noon. Emma explained that 12 o'clock meant the position of the pole on the ground when it landed. Jimmy still didn't get it.

Emma drew him a picture of a little man in a kilt standing on a field with the caber lying on the ground. She drew a clock face on the picture, adding all the numbers with 12 at the top where the end of the pole was. Jimmy wanted to know how they drew the clock face on the field. Emma gave up and decided he would need to see it for himself. Weight for Distance, Putting the Stone and the Hammer Throw he had less trouble understanding. Emma knew Jimmy wasn't stupid. He just took things too literally.

Yves dropped by the warehouse early one evening about a week before the Highland Games bringing dinner with her. Emma was always pleased to see Yves, almost as much as Jimmy, and the Gunmen were famous for never turning down a free meal.

While Emma was setting the table for dinner, Yves took Frohike aside and asked him in a low voice, "Are you planning on staying here tonight?"

Frohike was surprised by the question and the fact that Yves obviously did not want Emma to hear. "Yes, we are. Why do you ask?"

"There is something I need to discuss with you, all of you, but it would be better if Emma did not know about it."

"After she goes to bed would work if you want to hang around that long."

"That's what I hoped," Yves told him.

Emma talked nearly nonstop to Yves about the Games and guests coming from Seattle and the fact that these people were going to stay at her house and that Yves would really like them and would she like to come and meet them while they were there and how about coming to the Games herself because Emma would really like Yves to see her dance and on and on and on.

Frohike had to continually remind her to eat or not to talk with her mouth full. Yves attended to every word Emma said but Emma's enthusiasm did not enable her to see that there was something else on Yves's mind, something that was keeping her from fully sharing Emma's gleeful anticipation of the event.

Emma was reluctant to go to bed with Yves still there. Frohike had to insist at which point she grudgingly said goodnight to everyone. They waited about a half hour before Yves asked them all to come downstairs so they could be certain to have privacy.

Frohike flipped on the cameras in the living area to make sure that Emma did not get up and come to find them. She still hadn't caught on that there were tiny surveillance cameras all over the warehouse.

"I came to ask your help with something I've been working on." Yves began.

Langly snorted, "That's a change. Usually you trick us into doing your dirty work for you."

Jimmy started to come to Yves's defense but she had no trouble silencing Langly with a glare. "I could probably handle this alone but it could indirectly involve Emma. So I am coming to you with it."

Frohike didn't like what he was hearing. "What are you talking about? How could she be involved in anyway in something you're working on?"

"Let me start at the beginning. I have been tracking a professional art thief, a man named Colin Harris. He has a reputation for acquiring the unacquirable. He is so good that, often, it takes years for owners to realize that their works of art have been replaced with forgeries. A painting titled 'The Thin Red Line' is being shipped here to DC from Scotland. It will be displayed at the Smithsonian to whom it is being loaned for three years. I feel certain that he is coming to steal the painting."

"I thought 'The Thin Red Line' was a war movie," Jimmy commented.

"They did make a movie using the same title but it has nothing to do with the painting," Yves explained. "It depicts the battle at Balaclava between the Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders and the Russians during the Crimean War. The Scots were vastly out numbered and believed they would all die so they decided to wear their dress uniform kilts and go out in style. Only one highlander died during the fighting and they won the battle."

"Why is it called 'The Thin Red Line'?" Jimmy asked.

"There were so few of them that they stood in their red coats only two deep, all in a line facing the advancing horsemen."

Jimmy was impressed, "Wow, that's a great story! How come they didn't make that into a movie?"

Langly wanted to get back to the business at hand so he cut Jimmy off. "Why didn't this guy just steal it from Scotland?"

"It's usually on display in Edinburgh castle. Getting it out of the castle wouldn't be that difficult for Harris but I believe his buyer is here in the states. It will be much less complicated to steal it here than to try to bring across the Atlantic. It is a rather large painting and old enough that cutting it out of the frame and rolling or folding it could damage it."

Jimmy was having trouble understanding it all. "Why would you want to own a painting that you couldn't show to anyone?"

Byers explained, "Some collectors will keep famous paintings such as this to themselves or will only show them to other collectors of stolen art. They usually keep their art work in secret rooms or vaults."

"But then hardly anyone would get to enjoy them. Why do that when the painting is on display for everyone to see?"

"Some people are just greedy. It also gives them bragging rights. They have something that no one else in the world does," Frohike pointed out.

Jimmy shook his head. "That's just stupid."

"It is to you," Byers observed, "but you're not a selfish person."

Frohike returned to the original subject. "How does this involve Emma?"

"The painting will be unveiled in a special ceremony at the Scottish Highland Games in Alexandria, Virginia. I have reason to believe it will be there that Harris will make his move. My goal is to catch him trying to steal the painting and put him out of business but this is a well-attended event. Thousands of people will pass through there, some just to view the painting. I could use your assistance with catching this thief," she looked at the faces around her and saw a willingness to help. "But, Frohike, it would be better if Emma wasn't there in case something goes wrong."

Frohike shook his head. He knew this would crush Emma and he really didn't see that she would be in any danger. He could appreciate Yves's caution but he truly didn't believe that there would be a problem.

"I don't know, Yves. She's been talking about this almost from the first day I bought her home. You heard her. She has friends coming from the west coast to join her for this event. She would be in hell if she couldn't go and she'd drag the rest of us along with her."

Langly heartily agreed, "She's really looking forward to this. Man, I would not want to be the one to tell her!" Langly shivered at the thought.

Byers thought that Frohike was right but he was better at seeing things that could go wrong than his friend. "Do you think she could be in any danger from this guy Harris?" Byers wanted to know.

"No, in all the jobs he's pulled, no one has ever been hurt or threatened," Yves reassured him. "He fancies himself to be a gentleman thief like Cary Grant in It Takes a Thief."

Frohike looked at Byers who shrugged. "I gotta agree with Frohike, Yves. She's been looking forward to this for a long time. Telling her she can't go at this point because there's an outside chance that something could go wrong… It just won't fly."

"You're willing to take another chance with her safety after what happened in Richmond?" Yves was incredulous.

"This is completely different," Frohike insisted. "She will not be participating in any way. She probably won't even care what we're doing. She'll be too involved with everything else that's going on."

Yves considered this point. Maybe Frohike was right. Emma would be busy competing and enjoying the games and Yves's activities with the Gunmen's could easily go on around Emma without involving the girl.

"You're probably right," Yves conceded, "but we should still take some precautions."

"Like what?" Frohike asked. He had a few ideas but he was interested in what Yves thought should be done.

"You…or I am going to need to talk to her. She should stay away from the painting and the building in which it will be on display. And it would be best if she pretended not to know me. I will be wearing a disguise but she knows me well enough that she might see through it and draw attention to me."

"Why don't you wear one of your latex masks?" Langly wanted to know. "Then you wouldn't need to worry about her at all."

Yves shook her head. "They are not as effective in the summer heat. Sweating underneath them loosens the glue rendering them nearly useless. If I was going to be inside most of the time it would be different but this is an outdoor event."

"Anything else?" Frohike asked.

"Not at the present time. If I think of anything else, I'll let you know."

Frohike had another idea but he figured he could handle that himself. "Do you want me to talk to her, Yves, or would you like to do it?"

"I'll do it, it's my project, but if you could be nearby I would appreciate it."

"No problem."

Byers changed the focus of the conversation. "All right, now how are we going to catch this guy?"

Yves turned to a nearby computer and connected to the internet. After a few quick maneuvers, she was into the plans for the security layout at the Highland Games. "I need to find all their weaknesses. That's what Harris will look for."

Frohike sat down at the computer and started studying the system the Smithsonian had set up for the weekend to protect the painting. "They don't seem to think there'll be much of a problem. Their security equipment is out dated. A six year old could steal this painting." Frohike continued to check out the general security measures that would be in effect for the rest of the event. Byers watched over his shoulder making suggestions and observations.

Yves turned to Langly. "I need you to see if you can locate Harris." She handed him a piece of paper. "Here are all the aliases he uses of which I am aware. I need to know if he has left England and if so where he is or where he is headed." Langly had chosen another computer and was already typing. "If he's in the U.S., find out where he's staying and try to track any phone calls he's making. It may be easier to monitor the buyer than to try to spot Harris at the games or around the grounds."

"I'm on it." Langly's hands flew across the keys as he checked all modes of transportation leaving the U.K. for the names on Yves's list.

Jimmy went to go put on a pot of coffee. He could tell it was going to be a long night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 6 - 3**

After a long day of playing tourist, a rather weary group trudged back up the hill to Emma and Frohike's house. Everyone was hot, tired and a little grouchy but they had all enjoyed the sights. As they got closer to the house, Emma noticed that the van was parked out front. "Hey, we have company," she told the others.

"Who's that?" Rosalie asked.

"It's got to be at least one of my dad's coworkers."

"How can you tell?"

"My dad wouldn't have brought the van. It's so cool. Maybe they'll let me show you all the 'toys' inside. Come on." This last comment was made to Megan and Rachel. The three girls with Ian close on their heels ran the last block to the house. The adults arrived at a much more leisurely pace.

When they got there, they found Emma chattering away about the day's adventures with a group of men. Emma introduced the newcomers to Byers, Langly and Jimmy. With so many people at the house, Frohike and Emma's original dinner plans were not going to work and after a long day out, no one really felt like cooking anyway. Pizza was universally voted to be the best option so a large order was placed.

While waiting for the pizza to arrive, a reluctant Langly took the kids out to the van to show them some of the things it could do. Having that many children packed in the VW bus was a little uncomfortable for him but after awhile he discovered that they were not all that different from Emma. The little boy didn't say much at first but was soon asking questions like the rest. For a bunch of normal kids, they were pretty computer savvy. Of course, Emma knew a lot more than they did but she'd learned all she knew from him.

Hunger and the arrival of the pizza brought everyone back into the house. After dinner, Frohike sent Emma and the other kids out to the grocery store to get some novelty ice cream treats. This surprised Emma because ice cream was one of the things they had stocked up on. He quietly told her that the adults needed to talk privately about the weekend. She understood and assured her father that they would walk slowly. "Not too slowly. I want you back here in an hour."

"No problem," Emma assured him as she turned to join the other children waiting at the door.

Once the youngsters were gone, Frohike quickly outlined the case the Gunmen were working on.

Rosalie was a little surprised by all that he had told them. "Emma said that you were investigative reporters but this is a lot more involved then I imagined."

"You're sure they're after the painting?" Pat asked.

"That's what we were told by our associate who has been tracking this thief," Byers told him.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Becky figured there must be some reason they were telling them all this.

"As a matter of fact there is." Frohike explained, "I need someone to look after Emma. There is no real danger to any of you or her but I want someone I can trust to keep an eye on her. I know that she has a lot of respect for all of you and will feel safe with you."

Pat reassured Frohike, "We'll just treat her like one of our own brats: put her to work and keep her out of trouble."

Becky offered assistance also. "All of the girls will be competing. That will keep her busy most of the day Saturday. I'm sure she won't mind hanging out with Megan, Rachel and me." Becky usually helped the girls with their hair and costume changes for the Highland Dance Competitions while Bruce, Pat and Rosalie worked in the booth. "The rest of the weekend, the kids usually spend most of their time helping with sales or checking out the rest of the events. Will that be all right?"

"Yes, that'll be fine. It would be best, though, if they didn't hang in or around the building where the painting will be on display. Emma knows what's going on but has promised not to tell the other children. She has been told she can go see the painting once but then needs to stay out of the way."

The four visiting adults nodded agreement to each other. Rosalie spoke for all of them. "That shouldn't be a problem."

"I really do appreciate your willingness to include her. I'll try to check on her when I can. There is one more favor I'd like to ask, if it wouldn't be an imposition."

"Shoot," Pat encouraged Frohike.

Byers explained that all the Gunmen had been asked to wear kilts to help with their undercover work but that they felt they were missing some important equipment. After a bit of discussion as to how they were going to be dressed, the four Gunmen went to put their kilts back on and Bruce and Pat went out to the vehicles to select some appropriate 'hardware'.

Frohike received a standard military dirk and a basket hilt sword. Byers got only a dirk but it had a jewel in the top of the handle to go with his dress outfit. Jimmy was fascinated by the tiny knife and fork that were attached to the outside of the short sword's scabbard. Frohike's was more functional and did not have jewels or the extra implements.

These swords were attached to the heavy belt that each man wore around his waist. Jimmy, since he was dressed to compete in the athletic events, couldn't really wear any swords but he was so crest fallen that Bruce gave him a sgian dhub, a small knife that is kept in the top of the knee high wool socks worn with most kilts. Everyone else got a sgian dhub also.

For Langly, they really outdid themselves. Bruce lent him an ancient style kilt, called a 'great kilt': one that was gathered under a belt instead of being precisely pleated. Langly kept the full-sleeved shirt that Yves had given him but Bruce had him try on the leather armor vest his father had made to match the one that Mel Gibson wore in Braveheart. It was a little big but no one would be able to tell.

Next they had him put on a baldric, a belt that crossed his chest and back from his left shoulder to his right hip. This belt was made to hold an enormous sword called a claymore. It was nearly five feet long, so the only way anyone could wear it was to strap it onto his back.

"Grab the hilt with your right hand," Bruce told Langly. The handle of the sword stuck up high enough above his shoulder for him to grasp. "With your other hand, reach over your shoulder and pull the leather strap holding the sword in place." Langly felt around with his free hand and quickly located the cord. Pulling on it, he soon had the sword off his back and in his hands.

"I've got one more thing for you," Bruce held up a round, leather-covered shield that had an intricate pattern of small brass nails hammered into its surface. "These usually have a six inch spike sticking out of the center but I don't advise people to carry those around in public." Bruce turned the shield around showing Langly the handles. "Put your arm through the longer strap and wrap your fingers around the shorter one."

Emma and the other kids came in the front door at this point. Emma was delighted to see all her guys dressed as she and Yves had discussed. "Wow, you guys look great! Don't they look great?" Emma inquired of her friends.

Both Megan and Rachel humored Emma by agreeing with her but for them it was no big deal. They were used to seeing the men in their lives dressed in kilts.

Emma walked up to Langly where he stood with the claymore in one hand and the shield in the other. She made a deep curtsy in front of him. "Lord Manhammer," she called him by his D and D character's name, "I await your command." She held the pose, expecting him to say something.

Langly didn't disappoint her. "Rise, impertinent child, before I smite thee with my sword."

Laughing, Emma did as ordered then went around to all the others examining their costumes. She looked closely at her dad's kilt. "Hey, that's my tartan!"

Frohike looked down at the fabric. "It is?"

"Yeah, that's the MacKenzie tartan."

Rosalie came over and added her opinion. "She's right. That's clan MacKenzie."

"That's so cool!" Emma was pleased to see her father in her family colors. "Yves gave you the kilt, right?"

"Yes. I had nothing to do with choosing it."

"Do you think it was an accident or did she plan it that way?"

Byers had been listening to the exchange. "I don't think Yves does anything by accident. She probably did quite a bit of searching to find a kilt that was the right size and length in that particular tartan. You'll have to be sure to thank her, Doc."

Emma smiled to herself. Yves was always so nice. "You're right. I will." But since Yves wasn't there it would have to wait.

Impulsively, Emma ran up the stairs, yelling as she went, "Dad, is the camera still in your closet?"

"No, Emma, you don't need to take pictures."

She came back to the edge of the railing, "Oh, yes, I do!"

"Emma!"

Ignoring her father's protests she got the camera anyway. Knowing she had very little time before they decided to go change, she fumbled with the flash trying to attach it to the camera. "Dad," she pleaded, "I can't get the flash on right."

"Really, Emma, this isn't necessary."

Langly liked his outfit and wanted a picture to show his D and D buddies. "She's just having fun. Let her take some pictures. You guys don't mind, do you?" he asked Byers and Jimmy.

"No, that's fine." Byers thought he looked pretty good and it didn't bother Jimmy either.

"Okay, come here. I'll fix it." Frohike took the camera and the flash and put them together for her. "Do you remember how to set the F-stops?" He had been teaching Emma how to take pictures using a 35-millimeter camera.

"I'm not sure."

He handed the camera back to her. "Here, you try."

Emma took the camera from him and set it up to take flash pictures. She showed it to her father. "Is this right?"

"You got it."

Emma took pictures of all the Gunmen in their kilts alone and in a group. She also took pictures of all her friends from Seattle. When she finished the roll of film, she wanted to take more but Frohike told her she had plenty.

Byers took the dirk off his belt and examined it closely. "This has got to be an expensive piece. Are you sure you want to let us wear all these? If we have them on, you can't sell them."

Pat waved Byers off. "No worries. If anyone asks you where you got the swords, just send them our way."

Rosalie agreed. "You'll be our walking advertisements."

The next morning, the Tougher family along with Frohike and Emma drove out to Alexandria to set up shop on the grounds of the high school where the Highland Games were to be held. Frohike had all the girls in his car. He said nothing during the entire drive but there was no lack of conversation.

The girls talked nonstop about nothing and everything. Often, they would even talk at the same time. He had no idea how they understood each other but it was music to his ears. His pleasure at hearing Emma act and react like a normal 12 year old far out-weighed any possible irritation at the noise level within the confines of the car.

They pulled into the vendor area and began unloading the vehicles. Most of the girls' dance gear was loaded in Frohike's car along with a considerable amount of equipment of his own including a generic workman's uniform and a counterfeit staff ID badge.

After carefully studying the security layout at the high school, Yves and Frohike decided that they needed to add some extra surveillance equipment. With most of the vendors unloading and setting up and the general bustle in all areas on the site, Frohike was able to unobtrusively add several small cameras to areas in which he found them to be lacking.

By late afternoon, everything was ready to go. Frohike had left early to check on some last minute preparations of his own. Everyone else went back to the house to rest up for the next day. When they got there they discovered that Jimmy was there as well as Frohike. Jimmy had relished the time he'd spent with the family the night before. He figured it was because it had been so long since he'd seen his own family. Ian really enjoyed Jimmy's company, playing basketball with his tall friend and showing him the games he had on his Gameboy. Jimmy promised to bring his car next time to take Ian for a ride.

After dinner, most everyone decided to sit outside and enjoy the cool of the evening. At a lull in the conversation, Rachel asked her grandfather, "Grandpa, tell Emma the story about the curse on the Duke of Hamilton's palace."

Pat enjoyed having an audience and this was one of his favorite tales to tell. He had grown up near Hamilton in Scotland and had spent many hours as a boy exploring the Duke's land. The game warden had chased him and his friends off it several times.

His Scottish accent grew thicker as he began his account of the fate of the Duke's palace.

"The Duke of Hamilton was a greedy man. He made most of his money through coal mining. He owned all the land around the city of Hamilton and almost everyone there worked in the mines. The men dug the coal, it was loaded into large wicker baskets then the women carried it up to the surface.

"The women wore the baskets on their backs keeping them in place with long straps that circled their foreheads. There were ledges around each level of the mines for the women to rest. When they put the baskets down, they would scream to ease the tension in their bodies as they removed the straps from their foreheads.

"These were dirty, nasty jobs but most people had no choice but to work for the Duke, to live in the shacks he provided for them and to buy their food from the store he owned.

"One horrible day, there was a cave-in at one of the mines. Several men were killed and many more were injured. This left a lot of families with no one to provide for them. Their fathers, husbands and sons were dead; they had no money and no place to live. The Duke let the widows and orphans continue to live in the shacks figuring he could kick them out when he needed the room for more workers.

"One particular family was hard hit by this tragedy. A young man and his sister were left to care for their invalid mother when their father died in the cave in. Their ma had broken her back in a fall in the mines and could not be moved from her home. Her two children nursed her the best they could but when a group of Irish folk were brought in to replace the dead miners, the Duke ordered all the shacks emptied of the poor souls who were still living there.

"The old woman was tossed into the street. The Duke's men wouldn't listen to her daughter's pleas for them to have mercy and leave her ma in peace. The woman's son tried to stop the men from evicting his family but that only got him arrested. He escaped and went to hide out in the Duke's forest so he wouldn't be thrown in jail.

"Shortly after that, the old woman died.

"The Duke brought the daughter into his palace to work in his kitchen. I don't know if he felt sorry for her or not but it gave the destitute girl food, a place to sleep and the means to help her brother.

"Everyday she would save left over food and late at night she would give her brother whatever she managed to steal. They had a prearranged meeting spot in a clearing in the middle of the forest.

"Now, also in this forest lived a herd of wild, white Highland cattle. These were the meanest animals you ever saw. When my buddies and I would wander around in those woods, we had to be very careful not to bother them because they would charge you and gore you just for standing in their way. We were more afraid of them than we were of being caught by the game warden."

Emma interrupted the tale at this point. "Did you ever see any?"

"Aye, several times."

"Did they ever chase you?"

Pat grinned and admitted, "Aye, they did."

"What did you do?" asked Emma, her eyes growing large. The other children had heard this story before and were not shocked by their grandfather's childhood antics.

"I quickly climbed a tree and stayed there until the cow got tired of waiting for me to come down and left."

"Did it have horns?"

Pat held his hands up more than a foot apart. "Each horn was about that long."

"Wow, but you got away okay." Emma was relieved.

Pat laughed, "Sure, I did, until I got home and my Ma laid into me for being gone most of the night."

"Now," he said continuing the story, "the Duke heard that one of the bulls had gone rogue and was killing the other cattle. He organized a hunting party and set out one bright moonlit night to kill the bull.

"That same night the young man waited for his sister just inside the trees at the edge of the clearing where they would meet. He saw his sister step out of the forest on the far side. He came out into the open where she could see him but the young woman had stopped. She looked to her left. This time her brother heard the noise that made her pause.

"The sound grew louder and was getting nearer.

"The rogue bull charged into the clearing with the Duke's dogs and the hunters on horseback hard on its heels. The bull turned to meet the challenge and the Duke took aim. As he fired the bull turned and ran back into the forest, but the bullet continued on its course, striking the young man where he stood frozen by the scene before him.

"In horror, the girl watched as her brother fell to the ground. She ran to his side only to find him dead. She screamed in agony, her whole family now gone. Holding her brother's body in her arms, she rocked slowly back and forth and wept.

"Remembering that she was not alone, the girl stood to confront the Duke. With tears streaming down her face, she raised one blood-drenched arm and pointed at him.

"She said, 'Your greed has taken my loved ones from me and it will destroy you and all you hold dear! Your mighty palace, which was built on the backs of my family and others like us will sink into the earth and in its place there will be nothing but a foul, disease infested swamp.'

"This said, she knelt by her brother's dead body and taking his hand in hers she pressed it to her cheek. None of the hunters dared disturb her and when she turned to go, no one followed her. She was never seen nor heard from again."

Emma closed her eyes as she felt the young woman's pain. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved. After a few seconds she looked back up at Pat and asked the question upper most in her mind. "Well, what happened? Did the palace sink into the ground?"

"Aye, it did. The young woman was right. It was the Duke's greed that caused it. He had mined under most of his property leaving only the area under the palace untouched. Eventually, he sold the rights to that area, too. The ground became too weak to sustain the weight of the huge, stone palace. It started to sink into the ground but it took years for it to happen."

"And the swamp?"

"It was still there when I was a lad."

"Really? It actually became a swamp?"

"Aye."

"Wow," Emma breathed the word in amazement. "So, it's a true story."

"That I canna say for sure."

"It sure seems like it," Emma insisted.

Very early the next morning, everyone was ready to go. All the men were dressed in their kilts. Even Ian had his on. He wore a sporran that his grandfather had made him out of an old mink pelt that had belonged to Ian's great-grandmother. The three girls were also dressed in their kilts since this was the first outfit that needed to be worn to compete.

Frohike had a hard time finding a chance to talk to Emma alone. He finally took her upstairs to his room.

"We're clear on everything for this weekend."

"Yes, Dad." Emma was a little impatient to be off.

"Humor me and tell me what you're expected to do."

"I need to listen to Pat and Rosalie and do what they say."

"Bruce and Becky, too."

"I know. And when we are not competing, I need to check in with them and tell them where I will be."

"What else?"

"I can go see the painting once but then I have to stay out of the way. And if I see Yves, I'm not supposed to talk to her or anything." Emma's eyebrows knitted together as she tried to remember all they had talked about. "I can't think of anything else."

"You brought your inhalers."

"They're in my bag."

"Make sure you use them before you dance."

"I will."

Frohike stood for a few seconds as thoughts of what needed to be done ran through his head. He brought his attention back to his daughter. "That's about it. You're a smart girl. Trust your common sense and everything will be okay. Now, give me a hug and let's get out of here."

Emma did as her father asked then stepped back and admired his outfit again. "You know you can't drive with that sword on don't you?" she teased him.

"I'm not driving. I'm going with the rest of you. I don't want to leave the car sitting somewhere over night. Which reminds me, I don't know if I'll be back here tonight. Don't worry about me if I'm not. We'll be taking turns in the van doing surveillance."

At the words 'don't worry' Emma immediately began to do just that.

Frohike could tell. "Emma, everything is going to be fine. Enjoy the games. You've waited a long time for this." He took her hand and walked her down the stairs.

Rosalie was waiting for them. All the others were out in the vehicles. "Is everything okay?"

Frohike looked at Emma again, "I think so. Are you ready, honey?"

Emma nodded but not enthusiastically.

"I told her that I probably won't be here tonight and she's not happy about it."

Rosalie put her hand under Emma's chin and tipped her face up so that she was looking at her. "We'll be here with you and your father is going to catch this thief. You will be fine and so will he."

Megan came running back to the house. "Grandpa wants to know if we are leaving anytime today."

"Tell him we'll be right there," Rosalie instructed her granddaughter. "Shall we go before Pat wakes up all your neighbors?" she asked Emma.

Emma cheered up a bit, "Let's go," she said and headed out to the waiting vehicles. Frohike moved to follow her out the door when Rosalie stopped him. "Melvin, you will be okay, won't you?"

Frohike was surprised by her concern. "Yes, I don't see that there will be any problem with this investigation."

"Good. I'd hate to find out that I just lied to Emma."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 6 - 4**

Once the large party arrived at the Highland Games, everyone went off to do what each needed to do. The girls all had to sign in for the dance competitions and get their numbers. Becky helped them with that. Frohike went off to track down the rest of the Gunmen. The other adults and Ian made final preparations in the booth for the day's sales.

Emma saw very little of her father, Byers, Jimmy and Langly but she knew that they were scattered around the grounds, trying to blend in and watching for their suspect. She never saw Yves or if she did, Emma did not recognize her in disguise. There were so many people and so much activity that it would have taken a great deal of concentration and close observation to recognize the mysterious woman in the crowd. Emma had too much to see and do to bother with something she had been forbidden to attempt anyway.

Between dances and costume changes, Megan, Rachel, and Emma would run back to the Scottish Sword and Shield booth to see how things were going or just to sit down out of the bustle for a while. Sales were respectable but not spectacular. There was a lot of interest in the antique swords and dirks but no one had bought any of them yet.

At lunchtime there was a break in the competition schedule. The three 'dancing princesses' as Bruce called them, went off to find a spot to eat their lunches of scotch pies and lemonade and to watch the mass bands. To Emma this was one of the high points of the weekend. Several bagpipe bands came to the Games every year to compete against each other.

During the Opening Ceremonies all the bands would march into the grandstand area playing in unison. The effect was nearly overwhelming. The sound of so many bagpipes playing the same song, the sharp sound of the snare drums, and the deep booming of the bass drums that you could feel in your chest. It was exhilarating and mournful at the same time. It made Emma think of her mother. This was something they had always shared.

A lone piper played 'Amazing Grace' in memory of those who died on 9/11. When the rest joined in, she barely managed to win the battle with her emotions. She wasn't supposed to suppress her feelings but there was a time and a place for that and this was neither.

During the boring speeches the folks that ran the Games insisted on doing in the middle of the massed bands performance, Emma looked around at the audience. She noticed a familiar face.

Surprised, she leaned out behind Rachel to get a better look. It had to be him. Emma poked Rachel in the ribs, "Don't look yet, but the man on the other side of you, two rows up, in the blue shirt…Okay, look now."

Rachel turned to see the man Emma was talking about. Megan had overheard the comment and looked at him also. "Yeah, what about him?" Rachel wondered.

"I know him. He's a friend of my dad's. I wonder what he's doing here?"

Megan gestured to all the people in the grandstands. "He's probably doing what everyone else is doing."

Emma shook her head. "I don't know. I told him about it and he didn't say anything about coming."

Rachel took another peek. "But he's wearing a kilt. He probably just didn't tell you he was going to be here."

"My dad and all the guys are wearing kilts. That doesn't mean anything."

All three girls turned and looked at the man again. This time he decided to smile and wave at them. His cover was blown anyway. He shouldn't have chosen a seat so close to them. He figured they would be too engrossed in the goings on down on the field to notice him. The only way to salvage the situation was to recognize the acquaintance. He got up and climbed down the bleachers to sit by them.

Emma made introductions. "Agent Doggett, these are my friends Megan and Rachel."

Doggett smiled and said, "Hello, girls, are you having a good time?"

Megan spoke for herself and her sister. "Yes, thank you."

Emma's curiosity bordered on rudeness, "You didn't say you were coming here."

"You spoke so highly of it, I thought I'd better check it out," Doggett lied but he did it well enough that Emma bought it.

Looking around the bleachers, she asked, "Did you come by yourself?"

He watched her searching and answered the question she didn't ask, "No, Monica is not here."

"That's too bad. She would have liked it, too."

"She wanted to come but she had something she needed to do."

"Maybe next time." Emma's matchmaking tendencies had the two of them paired off. Her first goal was to get Jimmy and Yves together but Monica and Agent Doggett where next on her list.

The dignitaries at the microphone continued to drone on and on. Rachel was getting bored and made a suggestion. "Why don't we go see the painting now while most of the people are here? We can hear the bands again tomorrow."

This sounded like a good idea. Emma asked Agent Doggett, "Do you want to come with us?"

"All right," he agreed, "Let's go." Doggett figured since he was busted he might as well go with them instead of trying to follow them when he would be too obvious. They climbed down off the bleachers excusing themselves to the many people who were trying to listen to the speeches. Once clear of the crowd, they headed to the building where the painting was housed.

"Is the kilt yours or did you borrow it?" Emma asked, trying to make conversation.

"It's mine."

"Seriously?" Emma was again surprised but then it did look like it was made for him and he seemed very comfortable in it.

"Yup. Clan Campbell, on my mother's side." He told the truth that time. The kilt was his and he occasionally wore it at formal family events such as weddings.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It never came up."

"But I talked about the Highland Games the last couple of times you came by the warehouse."

"I know but you never asked me if I was Scottish."

They arrived at the spot where they could view the painting. There was no line outside and only a very short one inside. Most of the Games participants were still awaiting the second half of the massed bands performance.

While waiting in line, Emma explained to her two young friends that Agent Doggett worked for the FBI. He was nice enough to show them his official FBI identification card, the one with his picture on it. Both girls were impressed.

They finally got close enough to see the painting. Doggett spotted an old friend across the hall. He excused himself to do a little catching up but still be close by. No one had gotten in line behind the girls so they were able to examine the painting undisturbed.

It was a lot bigger than they had imagined. Pat had been selling prints of it for years, so they were quite familiar with the picture but were not prepared for the fact that it was at least four feet tall and nearly eight feet wide.

"Wow, it's huge!" Rachel stepped back to get a better view.

"Yeah, the pictures Grandpa sells are a lot smaller." Megan noted. The prints of 'The Thin Red Line' had always been her favorites because of the story that went with them.

The painting showed the Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders standing two deep, dressed in their red coats and dark green kilts. On their heads they wore tall, black bear hats each with a small, white feather decoration near the top. Their sporrans were made of long, dark horse hair and each pouch had six white tassels to decorate it. This was not the uniform of soldiers going into battle but of a platoon on parade.

The men stood bravely, facing certain death. Their bayoneted rifles aimed at the oncoming cavalry. In the misty distance, the commanding officers sat on horseback watching over their depleted army, undoubtedly proud of their men's unwillingness to give up when surrender should seem to be the only viable option.

The Russian army was represented by a single horseman, his sword arm raised defiantly but his head bowed in defeat, his horse collapsing under him. Next to him another horse struggled vainly to rise.

Emma carefully studied the painting. She knew the story and had always admired the bravery of the Highlanders it depicted. But standing there so close to it she felt a connection to these men who had lived so long ago. It was almost as if she was sharing the experience with them: the smoke in the air, the smell of the gun powder, the shouting of the men, the loud report of their guns and the screaming of the injured and dying horses.

First she felt the Highlanders' fear, then their grim determination but eventually their hope. It came with the realization that against all odds they were winning and, in the end, the day would be theirs.

Now she knew. Finally she could understand why someone would want to have this painting for his own. Yet, it also made her angry that anyone could be so selfish as to deny others the right to see it and to experience what she had when she stood in front it for the first time.

Momentarily distracted by her anger, Emma noticed something about the painting that she had previously missed. There were lights around the edge of the frame. They were soft, dim lights and they wavered a little in the air currents of the large room. At least that's what she thought at first. Emma turned to Megan, "I wonder why they decorated it with those lights."

"What lights?"

"The ones around the frame. They're so small. Then must be fiber optics or something." Emma leaned a little over the velvet rope to try to see them better. A security guard who was standing nearby cleared his throat. Emma stepped back giving him an apologetic smile.

Megan still couldn't figure out what Emma was talking about. "I don't see any lights."

Emma pointed to them. "Up at the top there's a bunch of them. See they're kind of swaying in the breeze. There are more down the side."

Rachel studied the frame closely but agreed with her sister. "I don't see them either and besides, there's no breeze in here."

Emma was about to accuse them of lying just to bug her when some of the lights slid down the side of the frame and hung unsupported in the air. She watched them in silence. They couldn't be fiber optics after all. What she was seeing was physically impossible but she didn't think she was imagining it.

What was going on? Two of the tiny points of light moved toward her stopping in front of her about a foot away. She held out a hand, palm up to see what would happen. One of the lights moved closer. It touched the tip of her index finger, pausing there for a moment. Then it followed the line of her hand and settled in her palm. It made her skin tingle slightly but not unpleasantly.

Turning towards the two other girls, Emma showed them what she held. "There. Can you see it now?" She raised her hand up to the level of their noses.

"See what? What are you talking about?" Megan looked at her friend like she was losing her mind.

Rachel thought she had an explanation. "She's teasing us, Megan. There's nothing there and she knows it."

They couldn't see it. They really couldn't see it. Emma dropped her hand and watched as the single point of brightness rejoined the others surrounding the painting. Needing an out, she chose to let Rachel's statement be her excuse. She liked these two girls and didn't want anything to damage their friendship. "Yeah, I was just kidding. I had you going there for a second though."

"No, you didn't," Rachel insisted, "I knew you were faking it from the beginning." The three dancers moved away from the painting, leaving space for the growing crowd of people to get a better view. Emma paused in the doorway to take one more look. Yes, the lights were still there. She hadn't imagined it. But why was she the only one who seemed to be able to see them?

Doggett hadn't seen the girls leave and took off looking for them. Maybe he was losing his touch. They shouldn't be that hard to shadow. He just wasn't paying close enough attention. "Agent Doggett," Emma said as he caught up to them, "I thought you were talking to your friend."

"Why? Are you trying to ditch me?" He asked in mock concern. Emma gave him a puzzled look. Oops, she was getting suspicious. "Actually, I was about to leave when I met up with you. This just isn't as interesting as you made it sound." That should do it.

"Well, have you checked out the sheep dog trials or better yet, we've got an hour until we need to go back to compete, let's go see if Jimmy really is trying the athletic events."

"You actually talked him into giving it a shot?" Doggett feigned surprise. In truth, he was fully aware of all that was going on.

"He said it sounded like fun. Look, they're over there." She pointed to the field in which the athletic events were being held. They all headed in that direction.

The girls, especially Emma, were a bit bewildered that Agent Doggett hung out in their general vicinity for most of the afternoon. They saw Jimmy near the athletic field but didn't approach him. He was talking to the other participants and Emma knew better than to get in the way. She suggested that they go back to the booth to see how things were going there.

Megan introduced Agent Doggett to her parents and grandparents leaving it to Emma to explain how she knew him.

The girls were asked to go stand in line to buy food for the hungry merchants stuck in the booth. Doggett watched them go, and then quickly informed the curious adults that he had been pressed into service to insure the safety of the kids. He left to find the girls.

Since he was getting hungry himself, he simply picked a food vendor near them and bought himself some lunch bringing it back into the vendor's hall to eat. He sat behind the cash register and watched Pat and Bruce work the sword counter. Pat was a natural salesman. He had an easy rapport with the customers although it seemed to Doggett that he allowed some of them to monopolize his time.

Bruce was more matter of fact and seemed to sell more. Pat's knowledge of swords was nearly encyclopedic but Bruce had the facts down and could answer almost any question. He very seldom had to defer to his father in order to assist the eager buyers.

Doggett found a sgian dhub he liked. The small knife fit perfectly in the top of his sock. He could barely feel it against his leg. It was a little more than he should spend on an item he would use maybe once a year, if that, but he decided to splurge. He took a credit card out of his sporran and tried to hand it to Pat.

Pat refused to take the card from him. "Your money is no good here." Doggett insisted but Pat went on, "Let's just call it a fair trade for services rendered." Pat glanced back at the girls who were laughing together over something Becky had said.

Doggett shook his head and held out the card again. "I'm doing it as a favor to Frohike."

"No matter, the results are the same. Keep your money. The knife is yours." It was obviously pointless to argue with the Scotsman so Doggett accepted the gift.

"Well, thank you then." He got no answer because at that point Pat turned to admonish a careless customer who had brought a sword up over his head, paying no attention to the people standing behind him.

"Leave the swords over the table." He growled.

Sheepishly, the miscreant set the sword back down and wandered farther down the tables to look at battle-axes. Doggett put the knife in his sock and turned to see that the girls were leaving. As he had hoped, Emma stopped to invite him to come watch them dance. He pretended to think about it for a second then accepted the invitation.

Sitting in the bleachers watching the proceedings, Doggett wished that all stakeouts were this easy. He could just sit back, relax and enjoy a gorgeous day. There was one drawback though. He was tired of hearing the same song over and over as each group of kids came up to perform one particular dance. He imagined it must be much worse for the bagpiper, playing it again and again.

Frohike found him mid-afternoon. "How's it going? Are they running you ragged?"

"They spotted me about noon, so I don't have to try to keep out of sight anymore."

"You're not very good at this are you? How do you manage to keep your job if you can't tail three little girls without getting caught?" Frohike didn't often get a chance to torment Doggett so he didn't hesitate to go for it when he saw an opening.

"It's your daughter. She doesn't miss much. How's your case going?"

"Nothing yet. But I'm sure this guy is going to wait until after hours. I wish Yves knew more about his MO. It would've made this easier."

"I checked the files at the FBI. We've got nothing on him. Interpol had some information but it was pretty sketchy."

Frohike nodded, "Yves said he was the best. Hopefully, we can stop him this time."

A young voice called up to them where they sat deep in conversation. "Dad, Agent Doggett!" Emma waved vigorously. She quickly climbed up the bleachers on their right side using the seats as stairs.

"Slow down before you break your neck," Frohike warned her.

"Oh, Dad, I'm always careful," she insisted with the certainty of the very young who have never seen people seriously hurt themselves doing everyday things. She dropped down next to him on the seat.

"How's the dancing going?" Frohike asked his daughter.

"Pretty good. There's a lot of girls competing though so I don't know how I did. They're having the awards ceremony after this next dance. Can you stay for it?"

"Sorry, honey, but I just came over to check up on you then I need to leave."

"That's okay." She heard the announcer call her age group to come and be ready to go on stage. She kissed Frohike quickly on the cheek, "See you later. Bye, Agent Doggett." She then climbed back down the bleachers even faster than she had come up them. When she reached the bottom without any broken bones and ran off to rejoin the waiting children, Frohike released his held breath.

Doggett thought about his own son, Luke, who would have been about Emma's age now. For a moment he was jealous of Frohike, then he turned to him and asked, "Do you realize just how lucky you are?"

Frohike had a fairly good idea where this comment was coming from and admitted, "Yes, I think I do. My only regret is that I wasn't there when she was small. At least you had that." He put his hand on Doggett's shoulder. "And anytime you feel the need to experience preteen emotional outbursts, just let me know. I'm sure we can arrange something."

Doggett held up his hands. "I'm sorry but that 'pleasure' is all yours. I wouldn't want to deprive you of all the joy that must bring."

Frohike smiled. "Let me tell you, there's seldom a dull moment."

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Rachel and Emma only got one metal each for their performances but Megan did very well. She got first place in two dances and a third in another. She just missed getting the aggregate trophy but all three were pleased with how they had performed. That was it for the dance competition, which meant they had all of Sunday to help with sales, wander around the grounds, or just generally try to stay out of trouble.

After closing up shop, which required covering everything and taking some stuff down, the Tougher family and Emma were ready to go out to dinner. Doggett had stayed to help until it was time to go but declined the invitation for a free meal. Emma ran after him as he left. "Agent Doggett!"

He stopped and turned to see what she wanted, "Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, I guess, but what for?"

"I know my dad made you come out here today even though he's too sneaky to tell me."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because why else would you spend your day off following me and my friends around?"

"Maybe I was just having a good time."

"Did you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did."

"Good, I knew you would. Are you coming back tomorrow or has he suckered someone else into 'babysitting'?"

Doggett laughed at her choice of words and dropped his arm around her shoulders. He looked around the nearly empty hall as if searching for anyone who might be watching. He lowered his voice so only she could hear. "I'm not sure what he has planned for tomorrow but keep your eyes open. I'm hoping no one can beat the fact that I went unspotted until past noon, even in my kilt."

It was Emma's turn to laugh. "I'll do that."

Late that night, Emma swam up out of REM sleep wondering what had awakened her. She lay with her eyes closed listening to the sounds of the other two girls sleeping on each side of her. Through her closed lids she saw a moving light. She thought nothing of it at first figuring that one of the adults was checking that they were all asleep.

But then she began to wonder where anyone had found a flashlight. She opened her eyes and could no longer see the light. She sat up and scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing, she fluffed up her pillow and tried to drop off again.

Before that could happen, the light was back. This time she sat up quickly trying to catch whoever it was who was messing around in her room in the middle of the night. She was betting it was Ian. As with most little brothers, he enjoyed tormenting his sisters but there was no one there and once again the light was gone. She looked over at the clock on her nightstand. It was 3:33 AM.

Shaking her head in frustration, she lay down and finally went back to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 6 - 5**

Emma woke up early the next day and checked to see if her father had made it home during the night. His bed was undisturbed. On the drive to the grounds the previous day, he told her to call him in the morning if he wasn't home. She sat down on the edge of his bed and dialed his number from the phone on the nightstand.

The incessant melody of a cell phone ringing in the van woke up both of the men who were not on watch.

Langly looked around groggily for the source of the racket. "What is that noise?" He knocked cups and other debris off the dash searching for the phone so that he could throw it out the window. "Make it stop!" he complained loudly.

It was Byers's turn to do surveillance while the other two slept. Jimmy and Yves were in her car on the other side of the grounds. "It's Frohike's phone. That's his ring." Emma had set her father's cell phone to play 'Scotland the Brave'. She claimed it would make it easier to distinguish his phone from everyone else's. Langly insisted it was just to irritate the hell out of anyone within earshot.

Frohike finally woke up enough to realize that it was his phone that was ringing. He slapped his hand up onto the dashboard grabbing it from where he had set it down to catch some Zs and hit the button. "This had better be good!"

"Good morning, sunshine." Emma succeeded in not cracking up over his early morning phone manners.

A little chagrinned at having barked at her for doing what he had instructed, he calmed down enough to say, "Good morning, honey."

Langly grabbed the phone from Frohike. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, I do. Do you?" Emma wasn't put off by Langly's grouchy demeanor either.

Langly tried to look at his watch but he had knocked his glasses onto the floor of the van while attempting to end the maddening tune the phone was playing. "No, I don't but it better not be as early as I think it is."

"Langly, give me to my dad and go back to sleep."

Realizing he wasn't going to get a rise out of her, he handed the phone to Frohike. "Here. She doesn't want to talk to me."

"I can't say I blame her. You aren't exactly all sweetness and light in the morning."

"Yeah? Look who's talking."

While the pair of them decided to take their frustrations out on each other, Byers took the phone and talked to a very patient Emma who sat listening on the line.

"Hey, Doc, how are you this morning?"

"Hi, John, I guess I woke them both up."

"That you did."

"How did it go last night? Any progress."

"Not really. It was very quiet here all night. The only thing we saw moving around was the security guards and a couple of drunken Scotsmen who had to be escorted from the premises."

"Ah, that's too bad." She tried to think of something else to ask him. He wasn't usually so open about an investigation, especially when they were in the middle of it. "Didn't Yves think he would come during the night?"

"We hoped so but there was no sign of him." Frohike and Langly had wrapped up their little insult session and now Fro wanted to talk to his daughter. "Here's your dad," Byers said and handed the phone back to him.

"Hi, Dad."

"Hello, honey. How did you sleep?"

"Okay, but something woke me up in the middle of the night."

"What?"

"It was a light. I saw it a couple of times but I couldn't figure out where it was coming from."

"Was is in your room or out in the hallway?"

"I think it was in my room. I could only see it when my eyes were closed but when I opened them it was gone."

"And you never figured out what it was?"

"No, it was weird."

"Sounds like it." This didn't seem to be too serious to Frohike. Maybe she had just imagined it or hadn't been fully awake.

"How did everything go yesterday?" Emma filled him in on how all three girls did competing. He was glad she seemed satisfied with only one metal. "You didn't give Pat and Rosalie a hard time?"

"No, I was too busy."

"What will you be doing today? I know the dance competitions are over."

"We wanted to go watch the athletic events and maybe go over and see the Highland Cattle. Pat said they have a couple of the white cattle he was talking about."

"That sounds good. Make sure you help them out in the booth if you can."

"I will."

"And stay away…"

"I know, I know." She cut him off. "Stay away from the painting but it was so cool yesterday when I saw it. It was so huge! I had no idea it was that big." Thinking about the painting reminded Emma of the lights she saw around it. Tiny moving lights. Lights that were not there at first but then they were. Kind of like lights you could see one second and not the next. She wondered, "What if…?"

"Emma. Emma, are you still there?" Frohike checked the display on his phone to see if they had been cut off. "Emma!"

"Oh, sorry, Dad. I was off in la-la land."

"Well, stay with me for just another minute."

"I'm listening."

"Good. I don't know what all will be going on today but I will try to come by the booth to see you at um… how about lunchtime? Would you like to have lunch with me?"

"Sure! That would be great!" Thinking about food made Emma concerned, "Do you guys have anything decent to eat for breakfast?"

"Sure, yeah, there's some food around here somewhere." Frohike lied.

"Dad, the peanuts that Langly threw at me the last time we went on a road trip do not count as food."

"Hey, I think I saw an orange rolling around or maybe it was an apple."

"Yeah, right! Listen, I'm going to bring breakfast. Just come by the booth and pick it up."

"Emma, you don't need to do that."

"Why not? I want to help."

Langly realized they were talking about food and was now interested. "What is she saying?"

She could hear Langly in the background. "And you know Langly works better on a full stomach."

Frohike glanced at his eternally hungry friend. "She wants to bring us breakfast."

"And you're trying to discourage her? You are an evil man. Byers, help me out here."

John's stomach was growling. The last food they'd had was scones left over from the previous morning and those had been eaten before midnight. "Something other than fair food would taste good."

The little breakfast elf on the other end of the phone could hear their comments. "Okay, that's it. I'll bring some stuff with me. Come by when you get a chance and tell Yves and Jimmy, too." Emma remembered she wasn't supposed to talk to Yves. "Or someone can take Yves some food. Whatever works best."

"We'll see you when you get here."

"Bye, I love you."

"I love you, too."

Langly climbed out of the driver's seat of the VW bus. He stretched popping a few kinked up joints. Frohike climbed out also and headed for a nearby gas station to use the can and buy a round of coffee. He didn't think Emma would bother with that knowing it was readily available from numerous food vendors at the Games.

Frohike returned after awhile with the coffee and they sat in the back of the van drinking it and discussing the previous day's work.

"Man, I was a babe magnet yesterday. The girls loved my warrior look," Langly bragged.

Byers was not to be outdone. "I didn't do too bad myself. I had more than one lassie ask me if I was going to the ceilidh."

"Lassies, huh? Only the dogs were interested in you."

Frohike had taken over watching the monitors from Byers. "Did either of you 'dandies' get a phone number from any of these fair ladies?"

Langly turned his usual shade of red when embarrassed by his inexperience in dealing with the opposite sex and Byers claimed, "I was trying to keep my mind on the task at hand."

Frohike sighed and looked back at the monitors. "It doesn't do any good to attract women if you're afraid to talk to them."

Langly was indignant, "I talked to them but I had to maintain my stoic persona. Playing hard to get is a real turn on to some chicks."

"Yeah, but if you play too hard to get, they lose interest. Try asking one of them for her number or even her name. You too, Byers, you guys need to get out more."

Byers was surprised by this turn in the conversation. "Us? What about you?"

"I have Emma to consider. I can't go forming any long-term relationships until she's ready to have another woman as a mother figure in her life."

This made Byers angry. "Don't use Emma as an excuse. I know she wants you to be happy and since you and her mother were never together, I don't think she has any thoughts of her mom being replaced in your affections. You've seen how she is with Scully, Rosalie and even Yves. She craves a female role model and I think she's keeping her eyes open."

"What the hell are you talking about, Byers?" Frohike considered the possibility that the man was seriously sleep deprived.

"I'm telling you, Fro, she's shopping for a mother."

"Now I know you're nuts. Michelle hasn't been dead for all that long. She needs time to get over that before I can even consider replacing her in Emma's life."

Byers knew he wasn't going to win this argument. "She not looking for a replacement: just someone to make you happy and to love her. Mark my words. She's going to drop someone in your lap sometime soon and you'd better be ready for it." He leaned forward and checked the monitor for the main gate. "The grounds are open. I'm going to get changed."

All three men had the good sense to change out of their kilts before settling in for the long overnight stakeout. Byers grabbed the bag with all of his gear and headed for the gate. Langly followed hot on his heals with all his paraphernalia. Frohike set the equipment for the day's work ahead and climbed out of the van, locking it behind him.

All dressed and armored for the day, the Gunmen went in search of Emma and her offering of food. They weren't disappointed: fresh fruit, orange juice, bagels with cream cheese and muffins that were right out of the oven. She had even gotten some good coffee, a whole thermos full, which was a huge improvement on gas station sludge.

Activity at a Highland Games is always slowest on Sunday morning so there were more people in the booth than outside it. Jimmy showed up before all the food was gone. He packed some up for Yves and himself but before he was ready to go, a blond female motioned to Emma from outside the booth. Figuring that the woman meant to buy something, Emma walked over to see what the she wanted.

She was surprised when the woman began to speak. "Emma, I need to talk to your father." It was Yves. Her voice and British accent were unmistakable. Emma looked more closely at her and recognized her under the makeup. "Hurry, dear, it's important."

"Okay," she whispered. She wound around all the people in the booth to where Frohike was standing. She tugged on his arm to get his attention. "Dad, she wants to talk to you." Emma pointed at Yves; she didn't know if she should say her name or not.

Frohike patted Emma's hand on his arm. "Stay here," he told her.

Watching the two of them talk in a corner over the swords, Emma could tell that something was wrong. Neither of them looked happy and her dad kept shaking his head. She wanted to do something so she got Byers. "John, I don't know what happened but it can't be good."

"Hang on, Doc, I'll see what I can do." He walked over to Yves and Frohike. He got a brief explanation from them, turned around, told Langly and Jimmy they needed to go. He stopped in front of Emma. He obviously wanted to tell her something but hesitated. Byers looked over to Frohike as if asking permission. Fro just nodded and headed out of the booth.

"What's wrong, John?" He drew her out into the middle of the vendor hall, away from all the people.

"We failed. It probably happened last night. The painting has been switched for a fake. It's a good one but Yves is sure it's not the original."

Emma couldn't believe it. "That's impossible! You guys were here all night. How can this be true?"

Byers put his hand on her shoulder to try to calm her. "Shh, keep your voice down. This isn't common knowledge and the authorities are hoping it is still on the grounds somewhere. That's what we are going to try to find out. If we can just figure out how it happened…" His mind was going a mile a minute wondering where they had gone wrong. "We must have him on tape. I have to go." He squeezed her shoulder absentmindedly before he rushed off to join the others.

Emma ran to the bathroom. She didn't want the others to know which meant that she was going to have to lie to them. She suspected that the adults would already have a good idea of what had happened but she couldn't tell them the truth. She would have to admit that her father and her friends had failed.

Maybe she would get lucky and no one would ask her what was going on but then if they did she could tell them she didn't want to talk about it. That would be better than lying anyway. All right. That's what she would do. She washed her face and tried a big smile out on the mirror. The mirror wasn't convinced.

She sighed and reentered the bustle of the vendor's hall. Pat, Rosalie and all the others were busy with customers or other employments or were possibly pretending that nothing had happened. Emma was thankful for this. She went and sat down on one of the folding camp chairs that lined the wall behind their cash register. Rachel came over and sat down by her.

"What's the matter?" Rachel asked.

"I'm having a bad day," Emma said evasively.

"I'm sorry." They sat in silence for a few seconds. Then Rachel asked, "Want to go do something?"

Emma studied her friend and gave her a weak grin. "No, I think I just want to be by myself for awhile. How about later? I do want to go see the Highland cattle."

"Me, too," Rachel admitted. "Do you want me to go away now?"

"No, you stay here. I'm going for a walk."

"You'd better tell my mom or my grandma."

"Yeah, I will."

Emma let the adults know that she was going out to wander around a bit. They tried to convince her to take the other girls with her but she said that she would not be gone too long. Rosalie hugged Emma, holding her for longer than necessary. She asked her in a low voice, "Are you going to be all right?"

"Sure. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Okay, but if you're gone too long, we'll have to call out the obnoxious little brother search party to find you."

"That won't be necessary," Emma said with a smile watching Ian duck expertly away from his oldest sister as she took a swipe at him for stealing a bite of her bagel.

It was a beautiful day and the morning was still relatively cool. It was much too nice to sit inside anyway. She thought that a trip around the grounds would do a lot to improve her mood. She would see people arriving excited for the day, hear bagpipers warming up and practicing for individual competitions, or whatever.

She decided to go over to the clan MacKenzie booth and say hi. A lot of these nice people had come to her mother's funeral and she was still a MacKenzie. Not for the first time, she considered whether she should change her last name to her father's. He had never asked it of her and she was proud of her Scottish heritage. Maybe she should see what he thought about it. Not today though. There was always time for that later.

The folks at the MacKenzie clan tent chatted with Emma for a few minutes. The conversation was a repeat of one she'd had several times since her mom died. "How are you doing? Really sorry about your mom. Who are you living with now? Your dad? How is that going?" and on and on. She didn't mind though. Until all this was said, you couldn't really go on to anything else. Might as well get it out of the way.

Wandering past the rest of the clan tents, Emma found herself outside the building where the painting was supposed to be. She went inside. If the painting was gone, she wasn't really breaking her promise and she wanted to see the fake. The security guard was there but it was still fairly early on Sunday morning so there were only a few people standing around. She waited until the others moved on leaving only the guard.

Emma stood as she had the day before and considered the new painting. It looked exactly the same to her but there was something about it that didn't feel the same. The connection she had experienced was missing. The painting felt cold and meaningless even though the story it told was identical to the original. She sighed and looked down at the floor. All their hard work was for nothing.

In her peripheral vision, Emma saw movement. Oh, for god's sake, not again, not now! This time the lights were all around her and not the painting. They slowly started to swirl about her body. It was obvious that the guard could not see what was happening. He glanced at her then away.

Emma fought the urge to run because there had to be a reason for this. The motion of the lights seemed to have a purpose. If only she could figure it out. She turned her back to the guard and held her hand out again. The lights continued their orbit of her body passing over and under her outstretched hand.

She let her arm drop back to her side and closed her eyes. She relaxed as much as she could while standing. Her therapist had taught her this technique but would probably have been surprised at its application. Breathing deeply, Emma opened her mind to the possibilities. After about thirty seconds of this, she started to feel silly but then am image that was not her own entered her mind. It was barely a whisper of a thought, so tentative yet so desperate that she gasped. It was, "Help us."

Ian found Emma walking back toward the vendor's hall. "That didn't take long," he thought. He was glad because he didn't really want to go look for her anyway. He stopped and waited for her to catch up but she walked right past him without even noticing him. "Hey, Emma," he yelled trying to get her attention. Someone else was looking for her and heard the boy shout. The woman turned and spotted Emma talking to a younger child. Walking up to them, she also called out to Emma.

"Monica! Agent Doggett said there was something you had to do this weekend so you couldn't come."

"That was yesterday. Today I am free to spend the day here with you."

Emma looked at Agent Reyes through slightly narrowed eyes. "Did my dad ask you to come and spy on me?" She was curious if Monica would lie to her or not.

"Well, that wasn't exactly the way he put it but, yeah, that's why I'm here."

"You can probably go home then. There's no need anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Ian was still standing nearby so Emma told him, "Go back and tell your mom and grandma that I'll be right there."

"I'm not supposed to come back without you."

Monica suspected there was something Emma wanted to tell her without the boy around. "Why don't we go see what they want? Then you can show me around."

After checking in and introducing Agent Reyes to everyone, the two of them went for a walk. Emma filled Monica in on everything she knew that happened over night, which wasn't all that much. What she really wanted to tell the FBI agent was a little harder to explain. They found a quiet corner away from the general hubbub of the Games. Emma told Monica about the painting, the lights she'd seen around it, the lights that woke her up during the night and what happened when she went to see the fake.

Monica listened to everything Emma said only speaking to ask for clarification on certain points. Emma waited for her to say something when she was done. "Have you told your dad all this?"

"Some of it. I told him about the lights I saw in the middle of the night."

"What did he say?"

"Not much. Just that it was weird."

"But you didn't tell him about the lights you saw around the painting."

"I didn't put the two together. I'm still not sure they have anything to do with each other. What should I do?"

"Well, first of all, I think you should enjoy the rest of the weekend. Then, tomorrow or the next day, when you have time to sit down with him, you need to tell your dad everything you told me."

"I'm afraid to."

"Why? He'll listen to you won't he?"

"Sure he will but I don't know if he'll believe me." Emma carefully studied her fingers as she asked the next question. "Do you believe me?"

"Yes, I do," Monica reassured her. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"Okay."

"What do you think the lights are?" Emma hesitated. She liked Monica and didn't want her to think she was crazy.

"Do you promise not to laugh at me?"

"I won't laugh at you."

Emma sighed then just went for it. "I think they're faeries."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 6 - 6 **

Monica went to check out the fake painting for herself. She was curious see if she could sense anything unusual. Emma chose not to go with her. The whole thing was getting too weird and she didn't want to dwell on it. Following Agent Reyes' advice seemed like the best idea. She planned on enjoying the events for the remainder of the day. Monica wanted to track down the Gunmen to check if she could be of any help so she got Emma to agree to wait for her before she did anymore wandering around.

When Agent Reyes saw Langly in his kilt and leather armor with the enormous sword strapped to his back, she did a double take. He crossed her path, obviously intent on where he was going. "Langly? Is that you?" He turned around and seeing her made a deep bow in her direction.

"Fair lassie, to what do I owe the honor of your presence?"

"Frohike asked me to come and keep an eye on Emma and her friends but she tells me that it's no longer necessary."

Langly reverted to his usual self to confirm the bad news. "Yeah, unfortunately we don't need to be as careful anymore. The deed was done right under our noses, actually, in front of our cameras would be a better way to put it." He shook his head feeling like a failure. He continued, "I'm going back to the van. Byers has been looking at the tapes to see what we missed. He thinks he may have found something."

"That's encouraging. I'll let you go then but do you know where Frohike is?"

"He was checking out the cameras he had placed around the grounds to see it they had been tampered with. Just a sec." Langly reached into a fold of the loosely gathered kilt that he was wearing and pulled out a headset. Putting it on he asked, "Byers, can you see where Fro is?" He listened for a few seconds. "Where's that?" He turned and looked back the way he had come. "Got it." He listened some more. "Monica is here, she wants to talk to him." More listening. "I know but Emma's obviously on to it." Pause. "Alright, keep your shirt on, I'll ask." Turning back to Monica. "He wants to know where Emma is."

"Tell him I left her in the booth with her friends and we're going to meet back there in a bit."

"Did you hear that?" Langly asked over the headset. "All right. I'm on my way." He removed the headset and put it away. "I gotta go. Frohike is in the green building over there," Langly said while pointing out the structure. "He and Yves are talking to security. Just flash your badge and you should have no trouble getting in."

She didn't need to show her badge. Monica met Frohike and a blond woman as they walked out the front door of security headquarters. "Monica, where's Emma?"

"She's back with her friends in the vendor's hall. I told her to wait there for me. She's on to us you know."

"Yeah, your partner blew his own cover. She's not stupid but at least she didn't kick a fit."

Agent Reyes held her hand out to the blond woman, "You must be Yves. My name is Monica."

Frohike introduced the two women to each other. Monica asked for an update on all that had gone on briefly outlining what she already knew.

"We're now nearly positive that not only has the original been switched for a fake but that it was been removed from the grounds as well. I checked my security cameras and they all looked fine but I found this." He dug around in his sporran and pulled out a small electronic device. "The folks here say it's not theirs."

"We suspect it interfered in some way with the signals from all the security cameras on the grounds, not just ours," Yves explained.

"Wouldn't you have noticed it though?" Monica asked.

Frohike shook his head. "Not if the feed was uninterrupted. I'm going to take it back to the van and see if I can figure it out."

He began to walk away but Yves stopped him. "Melvin, wait. I'm sure Harris has already delivered the painting to his buyer. Why don't you go find your daughter and spend the rest of the day with her and her friends? We might as well salvage what's left of the weekend instead of sitting shut up in the van doing something that can wait until tomorrow."

Agent Reyes could see that she and Yves were thinking along the same lines. It would definitely help to get Emma's mind off her 'faeries' to spend some time with her father at the Games as she had originally planned.

Frohike brightened at the suggestion. "You know, you're right. That's an excellent idea. I'm still going to go back to the van and drop this off. While I'm at it, I'll pry Byers's butt out of there, too."

"It was Langly who told me where you were. He was on his way over there."

"Good, that will save me from having to hunt him down. Yves, do you know where Jimmy went?"

"Yes and I'll take care of him. But first I'm going to go get rid of all this make-up." Much to Monica's surprise, Yves reached up and pulled off the short blond wig, revealing a mass of black wavy hair underneath.

"It seems there is more to you than meets the eye," Monica observed.

Yves was amused by this statement, "And it's probably more than you can even imagine."

The decision to spend the rest of the day enjoying the Highland Games instead of poring over surveillance tapes was well received by everyone. It was a delay of less than 24 hours but as Yves stated, it wouldn't hurt to take the time off. The painting was gone and, probably, so was Harris.

Jimmy really wanted to try tossing the caber and Byers wondered if an old friend of his would be part of a Gaelic language choir that was scheduled to perform later that afternoon. He had given up on the idea earlier but now would have the time to go find out. Langly had seen a vendor whose service included looking up people's genealogies on the internet. He was curious as to what program the man used to do this and wanted to go check it out.

Frohike just wanted to spend time with his daughter. He still felt guilty for spoiling most of her plans for the weekend and wanted to try to make it up to her. Emma was delighted to find that everyone was now free of work and ready to have some fun. Monica was right; having her father and her closest friends around drove her worries away. She was too busy trying to organize the rest of their day.

When she found out that they all had something in mind, she asked only that they would all be together for one event. That was for the massed bands. She insisted that they all needed to hear it. Since not much else went on at the same time, there was no problem making her happy.

Emma watched with satisfaction as they went off to enjoy their own pursuits. She turned to find her father waiting for her. "Well, honey, what do you want to do?" Emma considered her dad for a couple of seconds wondering if telling him the truth would hurt his feelings. Megan and Rachel had been waiting for a long time for her to be ready to go see the Highland cattle with them. It wasn't really a 'bring your dad along' kind of activity especially since Agent Doggett had shadowed them all over the grounds the day before. It would be nice to run around without adult supervision. She decided to see if her dad could take a hint.

"Well, Megan, Rachel and I were going to go out and see the cattle. You've probably already seen then considering how much you wandered around yesterday."

"Yeah, I saw them but I'm willing to go again."

Darn, that didn't work. Maybe this would. "Are you sure you want to spend all your time hanging out with us? We're really very boring."

Frohike barely succeeded in hiding his grin that time. He had gotten it with the first comment but sometimes he just couldn't resist making her squirm.

"I can't think of anything I would rather do more." Now Emma was really getting uncomfortable. How could she tell him she wanted to be alone with her friends? Frohike could tell that she was struggling but had to bug her one more time. "Well, what are you waiting for? I'm sure the girls will just love to spend the day with me."

That did it. It was too far over the top. He knew it and Emma finally saw that he was purposefully trying to be difficult. "Oh, Dad, you can be such a snot sometimes!"

He grabbed her and put her in a headlock. "Take it back or I'm not letting you go!"

Emma's laughter was muffled as she declared. "No, I'm not taking it back because you know it's true."

He let her stand up straight as he said, "All right, fine, insult me and desert me. I'm sure I can find something to do around here."

Pat had been watching the exchange between father and daughter. "We can put you to work. We can always use help at the sword tables to make sure no one hurts himself."

"Thank you, Pat, at least someone appreciates me," Frohike sighed in an overly melodramatic manner.

Emma laughed again, "Oh, stop it. You know I always appreciate you. Even when you are a snot." She jumped out of reach, waving to him as she exited the booth. Joining the other girls, Emma trotted off with hardly a backward glance.

Smiling at the easy exchange between the two of them Rosalie said, "They do grow up quickly, don't they?"

"I don't mind," Frohike admitted, "I'm pleased to see that she can make friends and wants to be with them. I worry that she spends too much time with us four guys and not more with kids her own age."

"Once school starts back up that should be less of a problem."

"I hope you're right. Michelle had her change schools shortly before she died. Emma didn't really make any close friends there before the end of the school year. Your two granddaughters are the first friends I've ever seen her with. Did I thank you yet for bringing them?"

"Yes, you did, a couple of times and I'm sure they would have been quite upset if we hadn't. They've always enjoyed Emma's company and when they found out we intended to come out here the first thing they asked was, 'Will we get to see Emma?' When I told them we were staying with you they wanted to leave immediately."

Both adults smiled privately at the idiosyncrasies of young girls.

Rosalie noticed that Becky was getting overwhelmed at the cash register and went to help her. Frohike stepped up to the sword table to see if he really could be of any assistance. After asking a few questions and watching how Pat and Bruce dealt with the customers, he soon fell into the routine. Because he was wearing a kilt, people assumed he knew more than he did but he didn't hesitate to refer them to one of the other men. He paid attention to the answers given and was able to offer more assistance as the morning wore on.

One customer was particularly interested in several of the antiques. He had been by the day before and had discussed the history of individual pieces with Pat. When he walked away without buying anything, Pat was not discouraged. A purchase of that size was not made lightly and the man had made several notes on the back of their business card.

Pat saw Frohike talking to the man he had spent so much time with the previous day but he was fitting a baldric onto a customer and figured Fro could handle it. Pat heard his name and turned to see Frohike pointing at the lock on the case that held the antiques. Taking his keys out of his sporran, he tossed them to his new salesman who caught them one handed. "The key and the lock have matching numbers," Pat said turning back to his customer.

When Pat had completed that sale, he found Bruce wrapping up four of the antiques for the other customer to take home. Becky was showing Frohike how to work the credit card machine. Pat went over to speak to the man who was willing to spend so much on their wares. After telling Pat which ones he had decided to buy, the man explained, "I came in here with the thought on buying only three of them but your associate there talked me into the fourth."

The total sale came up to well over $10,000 dollars. It was far and away the most they had ever made on a single sale at a Highland Games. Pat slapped Frohike on the back. "You can come and hang out with us anytime you want if you can convince people that they need to spend that much."

Frohike gave him a crooked grin. "He already knew he wanted all four swords and was just trying to justify spending the money. I simply gave him a nudge in the right direction."

The girls had visited the cattle and checked out the sheep dog trials. The dogs were amazing but Emma felt sorry for the sheep. After listening to a harp demonstration for about 20 minutes, Emma suggested they go see what was going on over at the athletics field. She thought she could hear the tell tale sound of the thud and ring of wood hitting the ground which meant they were tossing the caber.

She was right. They climbed up into the bleachers to watch. After they had chosen a spot to sit, Emma noticed Yves walking toward them. She had taken off all her make up and the blond wig. Emma didn't know if she should wave and say hello or not. Yves wasn't in disguise anymore and Emma wanted to introduce her to the other two girls but she had promised.

Yves solved the problem by smiling at the three of them and climbing up to where they sat. Emma relaxed and quickly made introductions. Yves sat down with them and informed them, "I was down talking to Jimmy. He tried the caber once but couldn't get it to flip over. As soon as they go through all the other novices, he's going to try it again."

"All right!" Emma was excited. Megan and Rachel echoed her sentiment.

They sat watching the progress on the field. At Games like this, they often encouraged new comers to try their hands at the various athletic events. The caber was the most difficult but with experienced competitors around to help spot the newbies, it was fun to watch.

With help, the athlete got what looked like a small telephone pole up on end. He would then wrap his arms around it and hoist it up into the air enough to get his hands under the bottom, bracing the length and weight of it against one shoulder. At least two other men would stand nearby in case there was any danger of the tosser tipping over backwards. If the pole started to fall in that direction, he would need to twist his body out from under it and allow it to fall to the ground.

Once it was safely balanced, the man began running with it to give it some forward momentum. Then he pushed up with his hands making the caber fall away in front of him, hopefully flipping so that the end that was in his hands landed facing away from the him in a 12:00 position.

Several men stood waiting their turn. Jimmy was with them. The girls watched him hoping he would notice them. When he finally looked their way, they waved vigorously. He waved back but wisely did not give up his place in line.

The other novices were entertaining to watch. Some managed to get the pole up in the air but very few got it moving. Most just jumped out of the way as the pole started to fall. One guy did really well and actually got it to flip over but it landed at an odd angle. Two others got it up on end but then it fell back toward them. A couple more attempts by other athletes and it was Jimmy's turn.

Two men balanced the caber while Jimmy wrapped his arms around it. He lifted it up and managed to get his hands under the bottom. For a few seconds it looked like he was going to tip over backwards but he maintained his grip and got the pole in the correct position. Emma could see the look of intense concentration on his face. He began to run with the pole and when he reached the appropriate spot, he heaved upwards and away from his body with all his might. The caber flipped over in the air, landed on the correct end and fell into about a 1 o'clock position, better than anyone else had managed.

Megan, Rachel and Emma jumped up and down screaming and cheering. Many other people in the audience joined them in applauding Jimmy's success. He looked up at them in the bleachers and raised both arms in a triumphant pose.

Jimmy noticed that Yves was cheering, too. Maybe he had actually impressed her, something that seemed very difficult to do. He saw that all four of them were coming out of the stands to congratulate him so he came around the fence to greet them. Emma caught Megan and Rachel each by an arm to slow them down so that Yves would get there first. Both girls turned to see what Emma was doing.

"Wait. I want to see what happens." She was gratified to see Yves hug Jimmy and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. They couldn't hear what the couple said to each other. When they turned to look at the girls, Emma no longer restrained her two friends but let them go talk to Jimmy. She was the last to congratulate him. She hugged him and he lifted her off her feet in his enthusiasm. "I knew you could do it. I just knew it," Emma managed to say even though she could barely breath from the bear hug.

Jimmy put her down and stood grinning at her. "You were right. It was so cool. I thought I lost it there for a second. And when I tossed it over I was sure it was going to fall back on me! And I almost got it to land at 12:00 o'clock!"

"You just need more practice," Emma offered as encouragement. "Man, I wish I'd brought my camera."

"Don't worry, Em, you can always take pictures next year. I'll be much better at it by then."

"You mean it? Do you really want to come again next year?" Emma asked excitedly.

"Yeah, a lot of these guys," he waved his hand in the general direction of the field, "meet and practice together. They asked me if I wanted to join them."

"That is so great!" Emma felt vindicated. Until the investigation with the painting came up, she felt that the others were humoring her and were only coming because it was so important to her.

"Listen, are you guys hungry?" Jimmy felt like celebrating by treating everyone to lunch.

Emma spoke quickly before the other girls could chime in, "We have other plans but why don't you and Yves go ahead?"

Yves gave Emma a quick look that said, "I'm on to you," but Emma didn't care. She grabbed her confused friends each by a hand and made a speedy exit.

Rachel had the decency to wait until they were out of earshot of the two adults before she complained about the rough treatment. "Let go of me. That hurts!"

"Sorry."

"What were you doing? We could have gone to lunch with them."

"No, I want them to be alone."

It was Megan's turn to question Emma's motives, "Why?"

"If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anyone?"

"I guess."

"What about you, Rachel?"

"Sure, unless it's something really creepy."

"I'm not going to tell you anything creepy. It's just that I think Jimmy is in love with Yves and I'm hoping she'll finally notice. If we're around, she won't."

"Why doesn't he just tell her?" Megan was always practical.

"I'm not sure. Maybe he's shy or something."

"Why don't you tell her then?"

"Because I'd just get in trouble. I brought it up once and almost got my head taken off. So I have to be sneaky. Look, why don't I buy us lunch? I haven't spent half of the money my dad said I could use this weekend." This sounded like a good idea so they ran off to find something they could all agree on.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 6 - 7**

At about 12:45, Emma decided to round up the stragglers for the massed bands. Almost everyone had returned to the Scottish Sword and Shield booth by that time, including Monica. Emma thought she'd left when the FBI agent had discovered that her services were no longer needed.

"You're still here."

"Sure, I am. There's a lot of stuff going on and I have to admit; I kind of like the guys in their kilts."

Emma saw an opening and went for it. "Did you know that Agent Doggett has a kilt of his own?"

"No, I didn't."

"You should ask him to try it on for you. He's looks really good in it."

Monica laughed at this suggestion. "I just might have to do that."

Taking another look around, Emma discovered that the only one missing was Langly. She finally found him but had trouble dragging him away from the genealogy man's computer. He had shown the fellow a few tricks on entering databases that would help with his business. Langly also made a few suggestions on how he could improve the program to make the most of the information that was readily available. This, of course, meant that Langly rewrote the whole thing.

All the cajoling in the world could not drag the computer god away from an interesting problem. Emma finally resorted to the one thing she knew he could not ignore: a wet finger in his ear. This drove him crazy and his reaction was almost always immediate: to catch her and torment her in a similar fashion.

They created quite a scene as they entered the main vendor hall: a young girl in plaid shorts being chased by a tall man dressed for battle, his long blond hair flying out behind him. Frohike heard them coming long before he saw them. Emma laughing and squealing and Langly telling her to stop. "What on earth did she do to piss him off this time?" Stepping outside the booth, he waited for them.

Emma ran up and hid behind her father using him as a shield to keep Langly from grabbing her. Now Frohike was getting angry. "That's enough! Knock it off, both of you!" He lowered his voice realizing he was making as big a scene as they were. "It's bad enough when you do this at the warehouse, but in public it's embarrassing."

"But, but…she knows I hate that!" Langly sputtered. Emma popped her head out from behind Frohike and stuck her tongue out at her pursuer. Langly made another grab for her but she moved too fast and he nearly knocked Frohike over in his attempt.

Putting one hand out to hold Langly off, Frohike used the other to grab his daughter and pull her out from behind his back. Langly tried again to get at her but Fro's well-placed hand kept him at bay.

"Just wait!" He turned to Emma, "What did you do?"

"He wouldn't listen to me!"

"That's not what I asked."

"But he promised to…"

"What did you do?"

"But, Dad, he…"

"Answer the question."

Heaving a big sigh, Emma finally did as she was told. "I licked my finger and stuck it in his ear."

Laughter emanating from the Sword and Shield booth told Emma that she had an audience. She ducked her head and smiled privately to herself. It wasn't private enough though. Frohike saw her reaction to the laughter and gave her arm a quick shake to bring her attention back to him and Langly.

"This isn't funny."

"Sorry."

"Now, you know he hates that."

"Yes, I do."

"Then why do you keep doing it?"

"It's the only way I can get his attention."

Langly had heard enough. "She just does it to make me angry."

"Well, maybe if you could think about more than one thing at a time…" Emma retorted.

"Yeah, right now I'm thinking of at least 5 ways to make your life miserable."

Frohike pushed them farther apart. "Stop it." To Emma he said, "You, go sit in the booth. I'll talk to you in a minute." He let her go and watched her walk behind the counter and find a place to sit. To Langly he said, "You're the adult here. You can't let her get to you like that."

"I don't let her, she just does."

"Langly, come on, man, think about it."

"Yeah, well, you're right but…"

Emma watched them talking. She couldn't hear what they were saying but she could tell that Langly was still not happy. She started to feel bad for making him angry. Her impatience with his distractedness really wasn't fair. He was always ready to help her when she needed it and explained things in great detail when she got confused. Now she was feeling pretty rotten. Langly was here because it was important to her. He had found something that really interested him and she had thought only of herself.

Deciding to disobey her father, she got up and went back out to them. Langly saw her coming and stopped talking. Frohike turned to see what had captured the other man's attention.

"Emma, I told you to go wait for me."

"Can I talk to Langly? Please?"

Frohike looked from Langly to Emma. "All right, see if you can work it out but no more running around and screaming. That goes double for you, missy!" Smiling at his joke she grabbed his finger, which was barely an inch from her nose.

"Okay, Dad."

She got serious again as he walked off. "I'm sorry, Langly. I just really wanted you to see the massed bands. I know how you get around computers and stuff but I know you'll like this."

"I caught part of it yesterday. It was pretty cool."

"It really is." She was encouraged. "Do you forgive me?"

Langly paused and considered her. "On one condition."

"What's that?" She asked dreading the answer.

"I get to do the same thing to you."

"What do you mean?"

He stuck one finger in his mouth, pulled it out and showed it to her.

"Oh, come on!"

"That's my condition."

"All right, whatever, but hurry up." She closed her eyes tightly and waited. Nothing happened. She opened one eye and peeked at him. He was just standing there. She opened her other eye. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"I didn't say I wanted to do it right now. The effect is not the same when you expect it."

"Huh?"

"It has to be a surprise."

"Just do it now." She swept her hair away from one ear.

"Nope, I'm going to get some lunch. I'll be back in time for your concert." He walked off.

"It's not a concert, it's called the massed bands." She yelled at his retreating back. She turned back to the booth, muttering to herself, "And he says I'm a brat."

Leaving a bare bones staff in the booth, everyone else went out to find seats in the bleachers for the show. Cutting it that close they had a hard time finding enough seats together for the whole group. They finally found a spot way up at the top near the end of the stand. Feeling a little like a traitor for ditching him earlier, Emma chose to sit next to her dad making sure she was out of Langly's reach.

The marching bands were magnificent, the music was loud, and the drums reverberated off the walls of the buildings surrounding the parade ground. There were long speeches, of course, but before the pipe bands performed their final piece, everyone was invited to join hands and sing along while they played Auld Lang Syne. All three girls showed the others that they needed to cross their arms over their own bodies before joining hands. When the song was over, the bands played Scotland the Brave and marched together off the field.

The vendor hall was close to the parade grounds so most of the group hurried back for the crush of customers that usually arrived as soon as the performance was over. Frohike, Emma and the other two girls helped with sales for about an hour until things settled down again and pretty soon the kids were getting bored and in the way. It was suggested that they all go find something better to do. Emma was interested in seeing the choir that Byers had talked about: the one that sang in Gaelic. She talked Megan and Rachel into going with her but she could not convince her father to come along.

"I'm going to stay here and help with the swords."

"Are you sure?" Emma now kind of wanted his company but Frohike knew she should spend time with her friends. They would be leaving the next day.

"You go and have fun. I'll see you later."

"You'll be right here?"

"I'm not planning on going anywhere else."

"All right. We won't be long."

"Take all the time you want."

Consulting a map in the program, the girls found the spot where the choir performance was to be held. The concert had already started by the time they got there. Byers sat in the second row but there were not enough seats near him for all three girls to sit in the same area. They chose a spot near the back. Byers saw them as they walked past and got up to join them. Emma left him the seat at the end of the row. They all listened in silence to the rest of the song. Although Emma couldn't understand a word, the music was beautiful. The choir was singing accapella but there was a beautiful, red harp nearby. Emma figured it would be used as accompaniment eventually. When the song was finished, she asked John, "Is your friend here?"

He grinned and pointed off to the left side of the choir. "See the woman near the back with the glasses?"

Emma looked where he had indicated. "The one with the green streak in her hair?"

"Yes, that's Erynn."

The woman saw him pointing and smiled at them, giving them a discreet wave before turning her attention back to the choir director. While the choir sang the next song, Emma had time to reflect. She had assumed that the old friend was a guy, someone John knew from college or something. He had given no indication that she was a woman. The budding matchmaker found this to be a very exciting development.

There were many questions she wanted to ask Byers but she knew he would make her wait for a break in the music. No longer listening, she carefully considered what she would ask first. "How long have you known her? Was she your girl friend? How come you haven't seen her in so long? Does she live near here? Have you talked to her yet?" She was so distracted by this that the applause at the end of the song caught her by surprise. Belatedly joining the audience in showing their appreciation, Emma asked the last question on her mind, "Have you talked to her yet?"

"No, not yet. She saw me come in and waved like she did just a minute ago but there's been no opportunity for us to talk."

The choir started the next song leaving no chance for more questions. The answer to the one question had pleased Emma. It would give her a good idea of how close they'd been by how the greeted one another. Now she was impatient for the concert to be over but something about the song they were singing caught her attention. She found herself humming along suddenly realizing she recognized the melody. The words were unfamiliar but she did know this song.

She sat back in her chair closing her eyes. That helped, the darkness helped. She heard a different voice singing words but in English. It was her mother's voice. Her mom used to sing this to her as a lullaby. She had completely forgotten about it until she heard the song again. Once more she found herself fighting tears but she was also pleased to have remembered something about her mother from so long ago. She wanted to know the name of the song. Erynn would know and Emma hoped she would get a chance to ask her.

At the break after this song, Megan and Rachel decided they wanted to go get some ice cream. "Go ahead without me. I want to meet John's friend."

"Do you want us to bring you guys back some?" Megan asked.

"No, thank you," Byers replied.

"Me neither, I'll see you later," Emma promised.

The choir sang a few more songs, utilizing the harp a couple of times. The man who played the harp was very good but then so was the choir. Emma recognized another song they sang but this one was not a lullaby and her memory of it was more vague. John bowed his head and Emma noticed that he had tears on his cheek. Whatever it was, it held deep meaning for him. She put her arm through his and scooted a little closer to him. He covered her hand with his and looked down at her smiling, unashamed of his emotions. When the song was over, Emma commented. "I kind of remember that last one. You seemed to know it. What was it?"

"It was played at President Kennedy's funeral."

"Oh, I've seen tapes of that. That's why I recognized it." It also explained Byers's reaction. Emma knew that President Kennedy was his hero and that he'd been named after the man.

The concert was now over. Emma glanced up at the choir and saw Erynn walking toward them. Byers stood up to greet her but Emma stayed in her seat out of the way. "John, it's so good to see you!" They hugged but Emma was disappointed that there was no kiss. She wasn't ready to give up hope though.

"It's been a long time," Byers observed.

"Ten years?" Erynn guessed.

"Probably closer to fifteen," he admitted.

"No, it can't be that long. You haven't changed at all."

Emma mentally rolled her eyes thinking to herself, "Come on, come on, get to the good stuff!"

Byers stroked his beard, "I know I'm a little grayer than the last time we met. But you look fantastic!"

This was good, fantastic was good!

Erynn laughed. Emma liked the sound. "Thank you, John. The kilt looks good on you. I don't think I've ever seen you in one before. You know, I've always said you have nice legs." Emma made a small, gleeful noise at this admission. Erynn looked behind Byers where Emma was trying to hide without seeming like she was trying to hide. "Is this your daughter?" Oops, not good. It had never occurred to her that Erynn would think that she was John's daughter. She started to deny it but John did it for her.

"Emma? No," he said and then to Emma who, once again, tried to hide behind him, "Come on, get up." He put his hand under her arm to get her to stand next to him. "She's the daughter of a good friend of mine." He looked at Emma for a second and in that brief moment she saw what looked like regret cross his face. "I have no children."

Erynn had also noticed the emotion's brief appearance. "That's too bad. You would make a wonderful father."

"Sometimes he practices on me and you're right, he's pretty good!" Emma declared trying to lighten the mood some. "And he's not married either!"

Byers eyes widened in shock at Emma's bold statement. "Emma!"

"What? You're not. I'm not lying or anything." She turned to look at Erynn and smiled, "How about you?"

"Emma, that's enough!" Byers was amazed at how cheeky the child was.

"What?" Emma asked again. "She's not wearing a ring or anything."

Byers face had now gone quite red with embarrassment. He gave Erynn an apologetic look, 'I'll be right back," he told her. Putting his hand in the middle of Emma's back, he pushed her towards the door to get her out of the building. "That was very rude," he told her when they got outside.

"I wasn't trying to be rude. I was curious."

"But you don't just blurt out something like that to someone you've just met."

"Why not? It saves a lot of time."

"It's not polite."

"I'm sorry. You can go back now. Will you tell Erynn I'm sorry? I'll go find the girls, okay?"

She didn't want to argue with him. She wanted him to go back to his friend so she apologized hoping he would drop it. Her quick apology did take the wind out of his sails. "Well, all right. But don't do it again."

"Okay, I won't. I'll see you later." She trotted off but turned before getting too far. "Why don't you see if she wants to come to dinner with us?" Emma didn't wait for an answer but quickly ran off leaving the idea firmly implanted in his brain.

He was headed back into the building when the realization hit him. It wasn't just Frohike she was trying to find a wife for. The little stinker was out to get them all paired up. That's why she'd been so bold. She probably figured he wouldn't have the nerve to ask Erynn the question himself. In all likelihood, she was right.

Erynn was still in the concert hall. She was talking to a couple of other members of the choir. When she saw him, she came over. He was relieved to see that she hadn't left. "You'll have to forgive my young friend. It seems she has a new mission in life."

"And what would that be..."

"She wants my coworkers and me to all have female companionship."

"Do you have a problem with this?"

"Not really but her tactics leave a little to be desired."

"She was a bit forward but rather cute. You were funny though. Your face got very red." Byers could feel his face reddening again. "Like right now." Erynn explained, smiling at his reaction.

"She asked me to apologize for her," Byers went on with his original subject.

"Tell her, 'Apology accepted'."

"Thank you, I will."

"And, John," Erynn paused to make sure he was listening, "the answer is, 'No'."

"The answer?"

"To the question she asked me." She reached out and took his hand.

"Oh," he swallowed nervously. "Hey, listen, um, would you like to go out to dinner with us?"

"Us? How many people are you talking about?"

"Quite a few really."

"I don't know. I was hoping for something a little more intimate."

"Like what?" Byers hoped he knew the answer.

"Maybe, dinner for two?"

"I'm sure that can be arranged," he said smiling.

Frohike walked around late in the day, collecting all the extra surveillance cameras he had placed on the grounds. He tried to get Emma to go with him but she refused saying she wanted to help out in the booth. She really wanted to avoid the unexplained lights and going back into that building was not something she was willing to do. With one of his cameras, Fro discovered another mysterious device that matched the one he'd found earlier. This meant that he could take one apart and still have a working version for further study. Even if they didn't catch the art thief, he might be able to copy this piece of equipment. It would come in handy if it did what he thought it did.

It was finally time to tear down. The games ended at six that Sunday evening and at 5:59 everyone started packing things into boxes, breaking down the shelves, wrapping up the glassware, etc. The swords were stored in wooden crates, which were extremely heavy and there were many plastic bins for most of the other stock. With all the extra help, they had everything packed up and ready to go in record time. Jimmy and Langly were particularly helpful because they could lift the heavy sword boxes.

Byers was still out and about. Emma filled everyone in on his visit with his friend. She discovered that she was not the only one who figured that the 'old friend' was a man. She was unable to answer most of their questions because she had spent so little time with them before she got tossed out. Byers finally came by but he was alone. He wanted to return his 'hardware' before everything got packed up. Emma grilled him about Erynn.

"Where is she?"

"She went to get her things out of her friend's car."

"Did you ask her if she wanted to go out to dinner with us?"

"Yes."

"What did she say?"

"She didn't want to go with us." Byers decided to make her sweat a little.

"Oh, I'm sorry." She thought about it for a second. "But you said she was going to get her stuff. Is she coming back?"

"She is."

"Then what?"

"She's going out to dinner but only with me."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really, now get back to work and mind your own business," he said with a grin. He put his hand on her shoulder, turned her around and shoved her toward the booth. Next he found Frohike and took him aside. "Do you think you and Langly can get a ride back to the house so I can use the van for the evening?"

"Why? You got a date?" Frohike tried not to snicker.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Hey, buddy, that's great. Sure, we can find a way back." Frohike reached into his pocket, he had changed out of his kilt to help tear down, and handed Byers the keys.

"Is it the friend you were talking about?"

"Yes."

"Have a good time."

"Thanks, I'm planning on it."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 6 - 8**

The Highland Games were finally over. It was a well-established tradition that Pat and Rosalie took everyone out to dinner that had helped in the booth during the weekend. It gave them all a chance to share their experiences and to generally wind down after the event. Sales had been good. Actually sales had been very good. More of the antiques had sold then Pat had even dreamed of selling. People on the east coast seemed to have more of an appreciation of historical items than those on the west coast. This had been his hope in taking on the expense of coming so far just to work at another Highland Games when he could have done one closer to home.

"Does this mean that you'll come back next year?" Emma asked.

Rosalie didn't want to make promises she couldn't keep. "We'll seriously think about it."

"What about Grandfather Mountain in North Carolina?" This was another Highland Games that was close enough that Emma figured she could get someone to take her to. "They're in July also and you could always stay with us in between times and we could do stuff together."

Rosalie looked over at where Pat and Jimmy were deep into a discussion on 'football'. Jimmy loved the game but he called it 'soccer'. "We would have to talk about it but it would make sense. Coming this far to do two Games would be more economical than doing just one."

Emma liked the way the conversation was going. Rachel had been listening but wanted to change the subject. "Grandma, you said you would ask them tonight."

"All right, all right, I will. Melvin?" Frohike was talking to Bruce farther down the table and hadn't been following what was going on at the other end.

"Yes?"

"Megan and Rachel were wondering if Emma could come spend some time with us, maybe over the holidays or Spring Break? You are more than welcome to come also."

Frohike smiled. "Let me guess. They've been plotting behind our backs."

A wide-eyed Emma shook her head. "No, I didn't know about this."

"But I'm sure you wouldn't mind."

"It would be great! Can I? Please, Dad?"

"I don't see why not. We'll have to take a look at dates later. But I'd rather go with you than send you on a plane by yourself."

The girls started talking excitedly to each other. Rachel telling Emma everything she wanted to do when they got there and everyone she wanted her to meet.

Later that night, the lights once again awakened Emma. She tried to ignore them. She put her pillow over her face but she couldn't breath that way. Tucking the pillow back under her head, she noticed that this time she could see them with her eyes open. There were more of them but not as many as she had seen around the paintings. She closed her eyes and willed herself to go back to sleep. It didn't work. In the darkened room, she could see the lights through her eyelids. Trying not to wake the other girls, she sat up and whispered, "What do you want?"

The lights stopped moving and hung suspended in the air in front of her but she got no response. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out relaxing all her muscles as she did so. "Tell me."

She waited.

Finally, she got an answer. "Help us." Once again, the simple statement sounded so desperate.

"How can I help you?"

"You must help us," came the tenuous reply.

"Please, what do you want me to do?"

"Look."

She lifted her head and opened her eyes. Right in front of her face, about a foot away, was one of the lights. It grew brighter and more distinct. It took on a form within the glow. She watched in awe as a face became distinguishable then a body and arms, legs and finally, shimmering wings.

At this point Emma had seen more than her young mind could comprehend in such a short time. There was only one thing she wanted: her dad. She scrambled out of bed, not even thinking of how it would disturb the others and ran to her father's room. She stood in his doorway, once again not wanting to wake him but needing his comfort.

Frohike woke up and his first thought was that she was having another asthma attack. "Emma, what is it?" He got up, putting on his glasses.

"The lights, the lights in my room."

He brought her the rest of the way into the room and shut the door. With his arms around her he asked her to be more specific. "What about the lights?"

"I saw the lights in my room again."

Frohike was momentarily confused but then remembered their conversation from the previous morning. "Like last night?"

"Yes, only I could see them with my eyes open and there were more of them and they were brighter."

"Let me go take a look."

"But, Dad, wait!" she begged as he let her go.

"What?" But then she couldn't tell him. It was too much. She shook her head. "Go ahead. But I don't think you'll be able to see them."

He left her standing there. He didn't turn on the lights in her room but Emma's quick departure had woken up the other girls. "What's going on?" Megan asked when he came in the door.

"Emma said she keeps seeing lights. Did either of you see them?"

"No," they both replied but then Megan added, "She did say she saw lights when we were looking at the painting the other day.

"Yeah, but she said she was kidding," Rachel insisted.

"I don't know, Rachel, she was serious but then you said she was joking and she gave up." Megan hadn't been convinced at the time and this made her wonder all the more.

"But neither of you saw anything in here just now or last night?" Frohike double-checked.

"No, I was asleep until she ran out of here," Megan insisted.

"So was I," Rachel agreed.

"Okay, girls, thank you. Try to go back to sleep now."

Frohike went back to his room. Emma was sitting in the big overstuffed chair waiting for him. She was wrapped in one of her mother's quilts: her legs tucked up under her body. Frohike sat down on the corner of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together in front of him. "Tell me what's going on. Megan said you saw lights near the painting, too."

Emma took a deep breath and let it out. "I didn't know what it was and Megan and Rachel said they couldn't see them."

"Hang on." He held up one hand. "Start at the beginning."

She told him the whole story about the lights around the painting and how they were not there at first but then they were. She mentioned the lights from the night before. She had to admit to going back to see the fake and how they were still there even though the painting was gone. Frohike chose to let that slide. Other things were more important at this point.

"And what about just now? The other times didn't scare you all that much but you were terrified by what happened tonight."

"There's something else I haven't told you yet." Emma admitted.

"What?" She hesitated. "Honey, you can tell me anything. I always want you to remember that. No matter what it is, you can tell me."

"But you'll think I'm making it up or that I'm crazy or something."

"I know you're not crazy and obviously, you're upset by what's been going on so I doubt you're making it up."

She believed him but he didn't know just how nuts it sounded. Monica had listened without judging her. Hopefully her dad could, too.

"When I went back yesterday, they talked to me. They did it again just now."

"What do you mean?"

"They asked for my help."

"The lights talked to you? You could hear them?"

"Well, kind of. I just knew what they said."

"So, you talked back to them."

She nodded. "I asked them what they wanted."

"What did they say?"

"They didn't. They told me to look. So, I did. And one of them got bigger and turned into a faery."

Frohike's eyebrows shot up. "Did you say 'a faery'?"

Emma's distressed grew with his reaction. "I knew you'd think I was crazy."

He tried to reassure her. "No, no, baby, I don't think you're crazy but are you sure you weren't dreaming?"

Emma looked down at her lap shaking her head. "No, I was wide awake."

"You're positive?"

Her head snapped up, her eyes flashing. "Dad, I know the difference between asleep and awake." She calmed down and added. "And besides, it happened yesterday in the middle of the day also."

"You saw faeries when you went to look at the fake?"

"No, not that. I heard them talking to me."

"Was that when they asked for your help?"

"That was the first time. They did it again just now."

"What do they want help with?"

"I don't know. They didn't say."

"What else happened?"

"Nothing. That's it."

Frohike took a deep breath letting it out slowly. "What do you want me to do?"

Emma sighed. "I want you to make it stop."

Frohike took her hand. "I don't know that I can." It was difficult to admit that he couldn't help her when she really needed it.

"I guess I already knew that. I was just scared and wanted to talk to you." She squeezed his hand.

"Then I'm glad you woke me up. We can talk more about this in the morning but you really should get back to sleep. Do you want me to go check if your room is safe?"

Emma sat back, wrapping the quilt more tightly around herself. "Can I just sleep right here? Please?"

"In the chair?"

"Please?"

"Okay, but you're going to wake up with a stiff neck."

"I don't care."

"You will in the morning. And get your feet out from underneath yourself or you won't be able to walk either."

She did as she was told and Frohike tucked the quilt around her legs. He kissed her, shut off the lights and returned to his own bed.

Frohike got up early the next morning, showered, dressed and went down to make coffee. He was surprised to find Pat and Rosalie already up. After the usual morning inquiries of how everyone slept, Pat asked, "How's Emma?"

Frohike was puzzled. "She's still asleep."

"It sounded like she had a rough night." Rosalie said.

"I'm sorry she woke you. She had a bad dream or something." Frohike lied. He wasn't sure how they would take it if he told them the truth.

Pat wasn't fooled. "I thought she might have seen the faeries again."

"She told you about this?" Frohike asked.

"No, your friend Monica did. She wanted us to make sure that Emma talked to you," Rosalie explained. "She said that Emma seemed pretty upset about it."

Frohike ran his hand up over his head. These people were experienced parents. Maybe they could offer him some advice. "It took a lot of convincing to get the whole story out of her. She was worried that I would think she was crazy."

Rosalie looked closely at him. "Do you?"

"No, but I think she has an over-active imagination."

Pat shook his head. "I wouldn't discount her story so easily. There are a lot of things in this world that we just don't understand. Just because you canna see it, doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

Frohike thought of Mulder and Scully. "Yeah, I know, I have two friends that spent years investigating such things. Monica and John Doggett have taken up the cause. That's probably why Emma told Monica first. She's heard stories about some of the less frightening cases that all four of these agents have worked on."

Rosalie asked her next question trying very hard not to sound judgmental. "Knowing what your friends have done, why do you find it so difficult to believe that Emma might have experienced something out of the ordinary?"

"I guess I don't want her to end up an X-File." He had to explain what that was.

Rosalie said she understood his reluctance to accept something that might cause his child pain. "But I think she needs to know that you believe her more than she needs to be protected from it."

"She asked me to make it stop."

Pat shook his head again. "You're not going to be able to. If she's right and they are faeries, they were there to protect the painting. She might be the only one that could communicate with them. Not many people can see them. My da used to tell stories about the wee folk he saw as a young man. He told several people but they all thought he was daft. He finally stopped telling the stories until he had grandchildren of his own. My da was a great story teller but he was no liar."

Frohike liked what he was hearing less and less. "What can I do?" he asked in desperation.

"Reassure her that they'll not hurt her," Pat said. "That should help. Then tell her to listen to them. Who knows, they may help you find that painting."

Rosalie saw the look on Frohike's face at her husband's comment. "It was obvious yesterday that you all were quite upset about something and that the painting had been stolen was the only thing that made sense."

"We're going to look more into it today. Byers figured he found something on one of the tapes that might help."

"Good luck with that and with Emma, too." Rosalie smiled as she said that. "You've got your hands full there but I'm sure Michelle would be pleased with the job you're doing."

"Thank you, that's good to hear."

The truck arrived at about 8:00 to pick up the unsold goods to be shipped back to Seattle. Bruce was flying back home to go to work. He didn't have enough vacation left to spend the time on the east coast with the rest of the family They planned on loading everyone else into one of the rented Suburbans and heading south to see the sights. They would meet up again in Florida and after a few days at Disneyworld, they would all fly out for the UK.

By 10:00 AM everything and everyone was packed up and ready to go. Good-byes were always hard but with the promise of meeting up again during the holidays, they were a little easier to take. Rosalie gave Frohike her cell phone number in case they had forgotten anything. Father and daughter stood at the curb and waved goodbye until they could no longer see the vehicles.

The house was very empty and very quiet. Frohike watched Emma putting away the dry breakfast dishes. He wondered if he should bring up what had happened during the night but Emma had other things on her mind.

"Are you going back to the warehouse today?" She asked when she was done.

"Yes, I need to. Do you want to go or would you rather stay here?"

"No, I want to go. I want to see how John's date went."

Frohike had forgotten all about that. He laughed and said, "Well, let's get out of here then."

When they got to the warehouse, Emma cornered Byers and demanded a full account of his date. Langly and Jimmy coaxed Frohike upstairs to talk away from the other two.

"All right, fill me in on all the gory details. What happened?"

Both men started talking at once. "Whoa, one at a time."

"I get to go first." Langly insisted. "Byers was out all night. He didn't get in until about an hour ago. He was worried that you would get here before he did."

"Why would that worry him?"

Jimmy jumped in. "He said he didn't want to have to explain to Emma what he'd been doing all night."

"And?" Frohike demanded.

Jimmy looked puzzled. "And what?"

Now Fro was getting pissed. "If one of you doesn't tell me what happened in the next minute, I'm going to knock your skulls together!"

Langly looked disgusted, "The bastard won't crack. He keeps saying 'a gentleman never tells'. I said if he actually was a gentleman, then he might have something to worry about."

Frohike started laughing. It was a deep hearty laugh. The other two men sat and watched wondering if he'd lost it. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. "What's so funny?" Jimmy asked.

"Don't you see? No, you really don't, do you?" Fro stopped to take off his glasses and wipe his eyes.

"What?" Langly shouted.

Frohike took his time making sure both men were watching him. "The narc got some last night."

"Got some of what?" Jimmy asked.

Langly made an exasperated noise and asked, "What would you want if you were out with a girl?"

"Probably dinner and a movie and if we got along really good then maybe, well, you know." Jimmy grinned his goofy grin. "Oh, I see, he got some." He repeated Frohike's line nodding. Then his grin faded. "But how do you know if you haven't talked to him yet?"

"Yeah," Langly agreed. "You haven't talked to him. You don't know that."

"Think about it," Frohike said, "if nothing had happened, he would have said 'nothing happened'. But by saying 'a gentleman never tells', he's as good as admitting it."

Jimmy thought about it for a few more seconds. "You know, his kilt was really messed up."

Frohike started laughing again, "You mean he still had that thing on when he came home? Oh, gods, this is too funny!"

After a few more minutes of speculation and jokes at Byers's expense an unpleasant thought occurred to Frohike. "If he keeps this up, I'm either going to have to sit down and have a talk with Emma or she's going to need to spend more nights at home."

Langly nodded. "You'd probably be better off talking to her about it. She's not stupid. She'd figure out why she wasn't allowed to spend as much time here."

Jimmy was concerned, "Do you think Byers will want to bring his girl friend here for the night."

"No, that's not what I'm saying." Frohike said. "But if he's out all night on several occasions. Emma will notice and ask questions."

"Oh, you're right." Jimmy was glad that this job would not fall to him. "Say, does she know about you and her mom?"

Frohike rolled his eyes, "I would hope so. She knows how babies are made if that's what you're asking."

"Not exactly. Does she know that you and her mom weren't married and that she was just looking for the right guy to get her pregnant?"

"I don't really know," Frohike thought about it for a few moments. "She told me a while ago that her mom said she had only lied to her once. That was about how Michelle got pregnant. I never brought it up again."

"It looks like you're going to have to," Langly said.

Frohike was getting frustrated and the discussion was giving him a headache. "Oh, man, I'm at a loss here. I wish she had come with an instruction manual."

"You know you can buy them though," Jimmy suggested. "There's all kinds of stuff like that at the bookstore."

"Yeah, and he would know. He's read most of them trying to figure what he's doing wrong." Langly couldn't resist the opening Jimmy left him.

Jimmy ignored Langly. More and more he was finding that this was the best way to deal with him. "And maybe you can talk to Agent Scully. She's a doctor, isn't she, and a woman. I bet she'd be willing to help."

Frohike considered this option. "You know, Jimmy, for a dumb jock, sometimes you have good ideas."

Jimmy was pleased. "I do? Hey, thanks."

Byers told Emma quite a bit about his date. The 'G' rated parts of it, anyway. He didn't let on that he was aware of her efforts to at least find him a girl friend but now that he knew what she was up to, if was entertaining to watch how her mind worked.

She seemed pretty pleased with his answers to her questions until she asked if he and Erynn were going to be seeing each other more.

"We're planning on going out again tonight but after that it's up in the air."

"But I thought you liked her."

"I do but she doesn't live around here."

"Where does she live?"

"She lives in Vancouver. Her choir came here to perform for the Games and a couple other events. She has another performance today and then she leaves tomorrow."

Emma was crushed. Byers noticed her change in mood. "Hey, Doc, it's okay. I'd lost touch with Erynn but now that we've had a chance to talk again, we'll be able to see each other when ever she's in town or I head out her way."

"You got her email address and all that?"

Byers smiled and pulled a piece of paper out of his coat pocket. "Right here."

"Have you put it in your email address book yet?" Not that she really thought he would lose it but why take the chance.

"Yes, just before you got here."

"That's good."

After lunch Emma brought the subject up again. "Vancouver, like in Canada?"

Byers had to rewind through all the conversations he had that morning to find the one she had decided to pick up again. "Yes, like in Canada."

Emma had been looking at an atlas on the internet to see how far away from the Washington, DC area Vancouver really was. She found two cities named Vancouver that offered some possibilities.

"Did Dad tell you that we got invited to go to Seattle during Winter Break?"

"No, he hasn't mentioned it."

"Maybe you'd like to go out there with us. Vancouver is not that far from Seattle."

Obviously, she wasn't ready to give up yet. Byers just laughed and shook his head. "We'll have to see if I can afford it."

"I could buy you a…" Byers held up his hand to stop her mid-sentence. His face told Emma that it would not be a good idea to continue on that track.

"We had an agreement that you would not ask to buy us things," he reminded her.

"But this is different," Emma protested.

"No, it's not." Byers said. "And December is quite a ways off. I should be able save enough money by that time."

"You'll really think about it then?"

Byers smiled again. "I already am."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 6 - 9**

The Gunmen spent most of the day reviewing the videotapes from Saturday night. Byers was suspicious of the two drunks that were thrown off the grounds in the middle of the night. Everyone searched for images of the men on all of the tapes. There were hours of tape to go through so for once Emma got to help out. They worked in pairs for something like this and Frohike was busy taking apart one of the devices he found with the surveillance cameras. Byers and Jimmy worked together and Langly paired up with Emma. She took it very seriously and was even able to identify a couple of segments that showed the men.

In her excitement at being allowed to help she forgot about her argument with Langly from the previous day. While she was intently studying the video monitor, Langly exacted his revenge. She jumped and squealed when she felt his finger in her ear. This earned them an angry scowl from Frohike. "What are you two doing?"

"Nothing," they swore in unison.

"It doesn't sound like nothing. Knock it off."

Emma rubbed her ear and told Langly, "You're right. It is worse when you don't expect it."

"See, I told you. So, don't do it any more."

"Okay, I won't. But how can I get your attention if I really need it?"

"Oh, that's easy. Just call me by my first name. Then I'll know you're serious."

"You're sure that'll work?"

"Try it next time and find out."

"It's Richard, right?"

"Yup."

Emma started giggling.

"What's so funny?"

"You just don't look like a 'Richard'!"

Langly gave her a crooked smile. "Yeah, I know. That's why I used to tell people to call me 'Ringo'."

"You don't look like a 'Ringo' either."

"What do I look like?"

"You look like a…" Emma searched for a name. "You look like a 'Langly'."

"Well, I guess I was born into the right family then."

"Are you two going to sit there and chatter all day or do you plan on getting any work done?" Frohike asked.

Before Langly could come up with an angry retort, Emma assured her father, "We're going back to it right now." She didn't want to get fired from her new job. Langly hit the rewind button to catch everything they had missed while they were talking.

Yves came by in the early afternoon with copies of the security logs that noted the rousting of the two drunks, which included the names and identification that had been shown to security. She had checked and the identification they used was bogus. By running back the tapes and carefully observing their behavior, it soon became obvious that the men were not as drunk as they had seemed at first, if at all.

Frohike carefully studied the dismantled electronics he had found. It did appear to do what he first surmised. It not only blocked the signal from a video camera, it transmitted a looped image so that it wouldn't be obvious that the signal had been disrupted. He hooked up the undamaged device and tested it. He was impressed. It was an amazing piece of counter intelligence equipment. And it wouldn't be all that difficult to copy. This would come in handy but right now was not the time to extol its virtues.

He explained to the others how they had been fooled.

"But how did Harris know about our cameras?" Byers asked. "I can see him disrupting the ones security put up but ours were well hidden."

Yves was studying the one that Frohike had taken apart. "I told you he was good."

Langly took the piece of equipment from Yves. "This may explain how he switched the painting but how did he get it off the grounds? Nothing was removed during the night, security made sure of that." He looked at Yves, "You're positive he didn't take it out of the frame."

"I'm quite certain the frame was switched, too. Tiny flecks of chipped paint that probably flaked off when it was moved are now restored. That didn't happen by magic. They took the whole thing, frame and all."

Frohike offered his theory. "They used that," he pointed to the thing in Langly's hand, "to keep us complacent, moved the painting to a preselected spot during the early morning hours, then hauled it off in broad daylight probably safely crated and stashed under a pile of trash or something else that security would have taken no notice of."

Byers thought of something he had seen the previous day. "Langly, do you remember yesterday morning as we were entering the grounds, we had to wait for that truck, the one carrying the port-a-potties?"

"Yeah, I remember." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Man, did those things stink!"

"I thought it was odd at the time. Why would they be taking any of them away when the Games were still going on?"

"Maybe because they were too gross to use! I know they got my gag reflex working overtime."

"It doesn't take much to do that," Frohike said.

Byers continued, "But they usually pump them out and refill the blue chemicals for the new day. There would be no reason to take them away, unless there was something in one of them that they didn't want anyone to see."

Langly slammed his fist onto the tabletop making the coffee cups jump. "Oh, man, do you mean to tell me they drove off the grounds with the painting right in front of us?"

Yves looked thoughtful. "Byers is probably right. Security wouldn't think twice about the sanitation crew coming onto the grounds, refilling the portable toilets, and leaving again. If we had discovered earlier that the painting had been stolen, the guards would have searched anything that size. The painting would fit nicely into one of the larger units."

"This does give us a place to start, though." Yves continued, "The truck must still be around somewhere. It might give us vital clues, if we can track it down."

Emma had been very quiet during this whole discussion. She figured they had forgotten that she was right there but she knew there was something they were overlooking. "What about the port-a-potties? They may not be with the truck any more."

From the surprised reactions her statement elicited she knew she was right: they had forgotten about her.

She hurried on to make her point. "If they're not with the truck, if they dumped them somewhere, someone will complain."

Frohike frowned at her. "Why are you still here?"

"I was helping."

"You need to go up stairs."

"But I already know everything, why can't I stay? I might be able to help some more."

"I could use some assistance looking through the videos for shots of the truck," Langly said as he sorted through the tapes to find the ones of the gate where he and Byers had waited for the truck to pass.

"And she has a point about the portable toilets," Yves added. "No one else thought of that."

Frohike scowled at Yves then at Emma. Eventually he gave in and let Emma stay. "Go help Langly," he told her.

"Thank you, Dad," she said giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Go on before I change my mind."

Langly moved to a computer and Byers, Jimmy and Emma watched the videos to find footage of the sanitation truck leaving the grounds. Byers found a good picture and froze it. They were able to get the name of the company off the driver's door of the truck but there was no clear picture of the driver.

"Frohike, the name on the truck is Port-O-Let/Sanikan, Portable Restrooms."

"Good, I'll call them and see if any of their trucks went missing this weekend."

Langly was scanning 911 calls to see if someone had reported missing flat bed trucks, port-a-potties, or the unexplained appearance of either in their near vicinity.

After numerous phone calls and a great deal of computer research, it was discovered that a truck had been stolen from the Port-O-Let company but more than a month previously. There had been two portable toilets on it at the time. The manager was surprised that anyone cared about the stolen truck and portable toilets. The police certainly didn't. The truck and both units had turned up the night before. He was about to go pick them up.

"We believe your truck was used during a crime," Frohike explained. "We would like to see if there is any evidence that may lead us to the perpetrator."

"Sure, come on out. I won't touch it until you get there."

"Thank you, we really appreciate it."

With the location of the truck in hand, almost everyone loaded in the van. Emma decided not to push her luck and didn't even ask to go with them. Langly stayed with her. He wanted to continue to check 911 calls for anything unusual. Emma kept out of the way, playing computer games or just wandering around. She couldn't settle on one thing.

It was very quiet in the warehouse and she jumped at every noise, wondering if the others had returned. She kept getting up and checking the monitor to see if they were at the door. Her restlessness got to Langly. He was keeping half an ear on her and it was easier to concentrate in a room full of people than one anxious 12 year old wandering aimlessly around the room.

"Hey, bratface, come here. I could use your help."

"Really?"

"Yes, I'm going buggo reading these 911 logs. I could use a fresh pair of eyes."

"Sure, no problem." She wheeled a chair up next to him and studied the screen. "So, what am I looking for?"

"Look here in the 'complaint' column. I'm checking for anything that looks weird: mentions sanitation trucks or abandoned outhouses, stuff like that."

That kept her busy so he could concentrate and it didn't hurt to have some extra help. Weird to one person may not be weird to another. She pointed out a couple he had missed. They didn't come up with anything really promising until shortly before the others came back.

When they did get back, Frohike, Byers, Jimmy and Yves were discouraged by what they had found and had not found. The truck was wiped clean. The manager from the portable toilet company said that it hadn't looked that good since it was new. Inside one of the port-a-potties, they found a crate the right size and shape to hold the painting. At first the Gunmen had been elated, then on closer inspection, they realized it had been built out of old shipping pallets. These could have been picked up anywhere and would give them no real clues.

"I'm sure Harris left it there to taunt us and the police," Yves said. They had called the cops when they were done with the truck. They would want to take a look at it, too. "He could've easily destroyed the crate or left it elsewhere."

"But now we know for sure how he did it," Jimmy was trying to lighten the mood.

"Tell them," Emma encouraged Langly, pulling on his sleeve to get his attention.

"Tell us what?" Byers asked.

Langly started to speak but Emma cut him off in her enthusiasm. "He found something: a real clue. Tell them," she repeated.

"I will if you'll give me a chance."

"Sorry. Go ahead."

Langly gave them the details of a 911 call he had found. "Someone called in to say that some kids were playing around in a warehouse out by Dulles."

Emma broke in, "The caller said they do it all the time."

Langly looked down at her. "Do you want to tell it or can I?"

"No, you tell it. You found it."

"Anyway, the police knew the warehouse was supposed to be empty but when they got there, instead of kids, they found that someone had been living there."

"That's why the caller thought that it was kids messing around, there shouldn't have been anyone in there," Emma couldn't help herself. He wasn't telling the story the way she would have.

Langly continued. "There was a full sized Chevy pickup parked inside. They also found a couple workman's coveralls." Emma started to interrupt him again but he put his arm around her, loosely covering her mouth with his hand. It was enough to shut her up but not suffocate her. "The coveralls had Port-O-Let's logo on the back."

"Did they happen to list the license plate number in the report?" Frohike asked.

"Got it and ran it. It belongs to Avis. The description of the truck in the police report matched Avis's records."

Byers scratched his beard thoughtfully. "They must have transferred the painting to the Chevy pickup to deliver it to the buyer. The sanitation truck would be too noticeable in a residential area. At the airport, no one would think twice about it. But I can't believe he would be careless enough to leave the original license plates on the rental truck."

"Maybe he didn't have a chance to change them yet," Jimmy said.

Yves agreed with Jimmy. "Harris probably figured he had plenty of time to do that after he had acquired the painting."

Frohike unwrapped Langly's arm from around Emma and had her sit near him to keep her out of trouble. "Were you able to find out who rented the truck?"

Langly grinned. "Yes, I did." He reached behind Yves to his workstation and picked up a piece of paper. He handed it to her.

Jimmy looked over her shoulder at the name, reading it out loud. "Wesley Thomason. Why does that sound familiar?"

Yves smiled at Langly. "Because it's one of Harris's aliases."

It was pretty late by the time they called it a night. Frohike and Emma had planned on staying at the warehouse for a while. Not wanting to miss out on anything, Emma stubbornly insisted that she was not tired even after a very busy weekend, getting up early several days in a row and being awakened twice in the middle of the night. Frohike found her with her head resting on a keyboard about an hour after she should have gone to bed.

He gently shook her shoulder, "Emma, wake up and go to bed before you get a permanent imprint of those keys on your face."

"Hey, I wasn't asleep. I was doing something."

"Yeah, you were drooling on my laptop," Langly fussed. He wiped off the keys with the bottom of his t-shirt.

"Well, it seriously needed cleaning anyway!"

"Don't take it out on Langly. Just go to bed."

The tired twelve year old looked up at her friend. "Sorry, Langly. That wasn't very nice of me." She decided to give it up and headed upstairs. "Good night." She called back at everyone.

"I'll be up in a few minutes to check on you. And don't forget to brush your teeth." Frohike reminded her.

She waved feebly at him as she trudged up the stairs. "I won't."

Too tired to worry about unexplained lights, Emma quickly dropped into a sound sleep not waking up until well into the next day. Turning to sit on the side of the bed she stretched, wondering if she had moved at all during the night. Her thoughts ran back to the previous day. She smiled remembering that for once they had really let her help on a case. And Langly had even allowed her to watch him hack into several computer systems. She wondered if her dad knew about it. She didn't see how he couldn't. John had told her once…

"John. Oh, my god, he had another date last night! I missed it!" Emma ran out of her room into the main living area.

"Hey, look who's finally awake!" Langly said with a laugh.

"Where's John?" Emma looked around the kitchen for him.

"Good morning, Dad. How are you today?" Frohike teased. "Did you sleep well? I did, thank you very much for asking."

"Hi, Dad. Is John up yet?" She was not going to be distracted.

"Yes, he's down stairs." Emma dashed off in that direction.

"Whoa!" Frohike said as she rushed past him. She stopped with a confused look on her face. He pointed at her bare feet. "You know you're not supposed to go down there without shoes." Although they tried to keep the floor in the work area clean, stray pieces of wire and other electronics debris were a hazard to unprotected skin. Frohike had to use a pocket knife to get a nasty bit of something out of her instep a couple of weeks earlier.

Heaving a big sign, Emma said, "Dad, I'll be careful." Frohike reached into his pocket, pulled out his penknife and waved it in front of her nose. She got the message and ran back to her room to slip on a pair of flip-flops.

She found Byers at his computer. "Morning, John." She figured it was worthless to launch right into it.

"Good morning, Doc." Byers replied with a grin, knowing what was coming next.

"How are you this morning?"

"I'm fine. How did you sleep? Did anything wake you up last night?" Emma wasn't surprised that John obviously knew what she had been going through. She knew her dad talked to Byers when something was on his mind.

"Nope, nothing," Emma said with some relief. She hadn't thought about it until he mentioned it. "I slept all night."

"Good. How come you're not dressed?" He frowned at her.

"I just got up," she said in her own defense.

"And you couldn't wait to come and say, 'Good morning' to me instead of having breakfast and getting dressed?" Sometimes it was just too easy to tease her.

"I wanted to find out how your date went," she said a little petulantly.

"Oh, is that it?" As if he didn't know. "It went fine." He turned back to his computer screen.

"That's it? It went fine?" Emma asked to try to get him to give her details.

"Yes, that's it. We had a good time. What did you do last night?" He tried to change the subject.

"I slept. We already talked about that." She was getting a little testy.

Frohike came down knowing that Emma would be nagging Byers. "Emma, go get dressed. Langly made you some breakfast."

"He did? I thought he couldn't cook." Emma was amazed.

"He's not as inept at it as he would like us to believe. Hurry up before it gets cold."

"Don't you mean soggy," Emma asked grinning.

"Go on!" Frohike said, taking a menacing step toward her. "Git!"

Giving a small squeak, Emma trotted up to her room to change out of her jammies.

Frohike waited until she was out of earshot. "Byers, thanks for being here when she woke up."

"You're welcome. Langly said you were worried about needing to have a little father/daughter talk."

"Yeah, I'm working up to it. Listen if you want me to keep her at the house overnight just let me know."

"No, need. Erynn left for home earlier this morning."

"Oh, no problem then. Say, you never said how you knew her," Frohike was curious.

"We dated for a few months. But then she moved away. We kept in touch for quite a while but eventually I lost track of her."

"And now?" He was almost as bad as his daughter.

"Got all the information and if Emma has her way, I may see her in December."

Frohike grinned and slapped his friend on the back. "Good idea!"

An hour and a half later, the buzzer went off breaking everyone's concentration. Emma ran to let the visitor in. "Check the monitor before you open the door!"

"Yes, Dad. You always say that and I always do." Emma looked down at the screen. Yves stood looking up at the camera. "It's Yves."

"Let her in."

Yves had a list of possible buyers for the painting. Some of these they had checked out earlier. But now that they had the description of the rental truck, they could interview the neighborhoods around the homes of the suspected stolen art collectors to see if anyone had seen the truck.

Byers, Yves and Jimmy went out to the Avis office that had rented the truck. It had been returned and they wanted to check it out. They didn't plan on finding much evidence but the mileage that had been put on the truck would help them narrow their search for the buyer. Yves wanted to talk to the clerk who had actually rented out the truck to see if she/he would recognize Harris.

These activities would take most of the day and probably well into the night. If they found a likely recipient of stolen artwork, they would check deeper. And if it came down to it, they would take appropriate action. Emma listened to the numerous discussions going on around her but no one would explain what 'appropriate action' meant. Frohike told her to stop asking. She finally did.

There was one question Emma wanted answered. At a break in all the activity, she decided to bring up the subject. "Yves, what about Colin Harris?"

"What about him, Emma?"

"Are you going to catch him?"

"Not this time." At Emma's disappointed look, Yves continued, "But I'm not giving up either. I have several contacts keeping their eyes open for me. He's going to show up somewhere and I'm very patient."

"Good!" Emma was pleased. "I know you'll get him."

As the day wore on, one particular art collector seemed to stand out as the most likely recipient of The Thin Red Line.

Neighbors reported seeing a truck that matched the description of the rental vehicle that the police had found in the warehouse. The two men who arrived in the truck had delivered a large armoire. The painting could have fit into the piece of furniture that was described by the neighbors.

At this point, Frohike made a phone call. Emma had agreed to baby-sit for Scully and Mulder that evening. This was something she had done a couple of times in the past. If she could spend the night there as well, it would solve quite a few problems. It would leave all the Gunmen free to try to get the painting back without having to leave someone behind with Emma in case they all got arrested for breaking and entering.

Scully was more than happy to have Emma overnight. To Frohike's surprise, Emma found this arrangement to be preferable to going home once her services were no longer needed.

"If I stay at their place, I can go to bed at a normal time instead of trying to stay awake until they get there. I always get too tired and late night TV is weird." She had no appreciation for Leno, Letterman, and infomercials.

Mulder showed up at about 6:00 PM to pick up Emma. She was ready to leave but Mulder had to poke around and see what the Gunmen were up to.

"Isn't Dana waiting for us?" Emma finally asked him after three false starts for the door.

Mulder shrugged, "She's a patient woman."

"With you around, she needs to be," she said with a sly smile.

"Emma!" Frohike shook his head at her. She was getting too sassy. He was going to have to do something about that. "That was disrespectful. You need to apologize."

"Sorry, Mulder," a red faced Emma said.

"That's okay, kid. Come on, let's go. Dana's patience does have its limits."

Scully was a little nervous about leaving Emma alone with William with no backup. Mulder told her she had been with the FBI too long.

"Mulder, you know what I mean." Scully said. "Her dad's usually available if she has a problem."

"I have your cell phone number and your mom's number and the number at the restaurant and all the emergency numbers." Emma was sitting on the floor with William sharing McDonald's french fries with him. "We'll be okay. Really."

Scully studied the self-assured girl deciding that she believed her. "All right, but don't hesitate to call me if you need me."

"I won't."

Little William and Emma spent a pleasant evening together. He didn't want to go to sleep but with a few more stories and some back rubbing he finally dropped off. Emma watched TV for a while until she fell asleep on the couch. She woke up around 11PM, brushed her teeth, changed her clothes, pulled William's blanket up over his shoulders and went to bed.

Mulder and Scully arrived home shortly after midnight. Scully went to check on the kids. Both were sound asleep in William's room. "See, I told you they'd be fine." Mulder didn't get to say 'I told you so' very often but he didn't rub it in either.

Something woke Mulder up in the middle of the night. It was the sound of talking in William's room. Figuring that the boy was awake and Emma was trying to get him to go back to sleep, Mulder went to help. Something made him pause just outside the door to the baby's room. Emma was talking but not to William.

"I know you need my help but I don't know what to do."

Mulder wondered if she was talking in her sleep. Stepping all the way into the room, he stopped in amazement. Emma was sitting up in bed. She seemed to be talking to several tiny moving lights that were in front of her and scattered around the room. She sounded desperate.

"I can't go with you. It's the middle of the night. I would get in so much trouble."

Mulder moved slowly across the room. He didn't want to startle her or scare off whatever the lights were. He spoke softly. "Emma, what are they?"

"Mulder," Emma also used a quiet voice, "you can see them?"

"Yes, what are they?" he repeated.

"They're faeries but you're the only other person who's been able to see them." She was relieved. It meant that she was not going crazy. This thought had tormented her making it difficult to accept what she was seeing.

"I see a lot of stuff other people don't see. What do they want?" He sat down at the foot of the bed trying to watch as many of the lights as he could.

"They want me to go with them. They want to show me something. But I can't, not now." She waved her arm towards the darkness out the window.

"What if I went with you?"

"You would? Yes, that'd be great. Thank you, Mulder."

"Get dressed. I'll be right back." He went to throw on some jeans and a sweat jacket. He hurried then realized he needed to give Emma time to dress, too. He stood in the hallway. Emerging from William's room, the lights swirled around Emma like dry leaves blowing around a courtyard on a windy day.

"Can you drive us? I think it's pretty far but they seem to understand that we can't walk all the way."

Mulder grabbed his keys from the desk. "Let's go."

Yves and the Lone Gunmen were parked a few houses away and across the street from the home of the suspected stolen art collector. Frohike had picked a parking spot in the darkest area between two streetlights. Langly located the blue prints for the palatial home and found that there was a very large vault in the basement: large enough to house an impressive collection of other people's art work. The five of them were sitting in the van debating their next move.

Frohike simply wanted to break in, get the painting and get the hell out of Dodge. Byers favored a much more cautious approach figuring that there was more inside than just The Thin Red Line. He thought they might as well check it out to see if there was anything else to recover.

"How much do you think we are going to get into this van with the five of us in here? The painting is barely going to fit. I'm telling you, Byers, let's just get what we came for. If there's anything else in there, we can alert the authorities and have them take care of it."

Byers wasn't convinced. "Once we take the painting, this guy is going to know that we're on to him. He'll hide or sell everything else and not pay for his crimes!"

"Look, can we just make a decision here," Langly said. "It's after 3:00 and we're running out of time."

"Hey, someone's coming," Jimmy called out. He was on lookout. Pointing the camera toward the approaching car, he zoomed in on it. The car stopped in front of the house they were interested in. Two people got out of the car and stood checking out the house: two very familiar looking people.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 6 - 10**

Frohike swore imaginatively and added. "What are they doing here? I'm going to kill Mulder!"

He slid the door open and stomped across the street, making way too much noise for such a clandestine operation. He did manage to keep from yelling, though. Emma saw him coming and could tell he was furious. She ran out into the street to meet him. He took her by the hand and led her back to the van. Pulling open the driver's door, he pushed her in ahead of him, climbed in himself and, starting the engine, drove away.

Mulder ran back to his car and followed the VW bus as it turned a corner.

Emma didn't say anything as they drove. Frohike only said one thing to her, "Put on your seat belt." She searched around for it but couldn't find it. Byers was sitting at her right side. He pulled the belt out from under her and helped her put it on.

Frohike was fuming. Emma wanted to talk to him, to explain but she figured he would ask when he was ready, maybe when he had calmed down a little.

Frohike wasn't worried about where he was going. He just wanted to get Emma out of there. How had she known where they were? Why on earth had Mulder brought her out to them when he knew what had happened the one time she had gone on a stakeout? They had been lucky that last time. He wasn't willing to take another chance on her being taken into custody and questioned for hours on end. What had happened to her was too close to torture. It would never happen again. If the police had been called, if they had been arrested when she was with them… Yves was right, she could be taken away from him or worse yet, she could have gotten seriously hurt. Damn Mulder, what was he thinking?

Checking his rearview mirror, Frohike could see that Mulder was still behind them. He spotted a deserted grocery store parking lot and pulled into it suspecting Mulder would follow.

Shutting off the motor and setting the parking brake, Frohike jumped out of the van. Emma tried to follow him but was held up by her seatbelt. "Dad, wait! Please!" She was afraid of what he would do to Mulder. He ignored her. Mulder was standing next to his open car door waiting for Frohike to close the distance between them.

"Frohike, I …" The irate father did not let him finish. He pushed Mulder against his car.

"What the hell were you doing bringing her out to us? I trusted you to take care of her not to put her in danger."

"Frohike, I was just trying to help her." Mulder fought to remain calm.

"Help her? How? What if the cops had come?"

Emma had caught up with them, getting to her father just ahead of the others who had also piled out to stop Frohike from beating the crap out of Mulder. She grabbed her father's arm and pulled on it, putting all of her weight into it. He raised his arm and swung it outwards to break her grip and shake her off. This put her off balance and, turning as she fell, she came down hard on her left arm.

To the others who had just arrived on the scene it looked like Frohike had hit Emma. Jimmy bent over her where she lay cradling her scraped and bleeding arm.

"Emma!" Realizing she was hurt, Frohike turned to help her but Langly and Byers stood between him and the pair on the ground. He tried to push his way through them but they held him back. Byers spoke calmly to him. "You can't hit her like that, Frohike."

Frohike was shocked that his friends believed he could do such a thing to Emma. "I didn't hit her. I could never hit her."

Sitting up but obviously in pain, Emma confirmed his story. "He didn't hit me. I fell when he made me let go." Byers and Langly stepped aside allowing Frohike to check on her. Kneeling beside Emma, he put his arm around her and said, "Oh, honey, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know, Dad. Ow! Careful," she complained as he turned her arm over to see the other side.

Now that she finally had his attention, she tried to explain her presence at their stakeout. "Dad, Mulder and I didn't know you guys were at that house. He can see the faeries, too, and was trying to help. They wanted me to follow them. That's where they led us."

"Faeries?" Jimmy asked in confusion.

"She told me the whole story while we were driving," Mulder explained, "and I think she's right about the lights being faeries." Yves came back from the VW bus with the first aid kit and started to clean up Emma's arm as Mulder continued. "From what I've read, there are several different kinds of faeries. Woodland faeries, water faeries, house faeries and such protect those areas. This group has attached itself to what has to be considered a national treasure. Emma's feeling of connection to it opened her mind to the fact that the faeries were there. When it was stolen, they sought her out in the hopes that she could help retrieve it."

"I told them I couldn't follow them because it was the middle of the night and Mulder heard me talking to them," Emma said.

"I offered to go with her since I could see them, too." No one questioned the fact that Mulder could see the faeries. "They led us to you. We were both surprised to see you all there."

"Emma, move your hand for me, like this." Yves demonstrated a forward and back waving motion, which required Emma to bend her wrist.

"It hurts," Emma complained.

Yves looked at Frohike. "Her wrist is swelling up. It isn't broken but it could be sprained."

"Scully should take a look at that," Mulder suggested.

"Do you think she would mind?" Frohike asked.

"She's probably awake anyway and has discovered that we're gone. I forgot to leave her a note." Mulder's face implied the dressing down he'd get for that one.

"Can't we go back and get the painting," Emma pleaded.

Frohike shook his head. "Not tonight."

"But, Dad…" Tears threatened, he could hear it in her voice. She hadn't cried when she got hurt but the thought of not going back pushed her past the point of her endurance.

He pulled her all the way into a hug being careful not to get her injured arm between their bodies. "It's all right, baby, calm down. We've got a couple of days. We'll probably come back tomorrow."

"You will?"

"I'm hoping we can. We need to talk about it though. Don't worry. We'll get your painting for you."

Emma smiled at that remark. "It's not my painting but I do want it go back to where it belongs."

Frohike stood to help Emma up. "Dad, you need to apologize to Mulder," Emma told him privately.

"I know, honey, I will." He assured her. "Jimmy, will you take her back to the van?"

He watched them walk off. "Mulder," Frohike called to his beleaguered friend who was about to climb into his own car. Mulder turned to see what he wanted. "Hey, buddy, I'm sorry about the rough treatment."

Mulder gave him a lopsided smile. "It's okay. Don't worry about it." And he turned again to leave.

Frohike stopped him with a hand on his arm. "No, it's not okay. I was angry enough that I could've really hurt you. I should have asked questions first. But after what happened to her last time," a pained expression crossed Frohike's face making him shake his head, "I wasn't thinking very clearly."

"You were worried about your kid. Hell, even I've found out that impedes rational thought. Besides," Mulder added, presumably as an after thought, "I could take you in two out of three falls."

Frohike grinned at Mulder. "In your dreams, fibbie-boy, in your dreams."

Scully pronounced Emma's arm badly strained but not broken or even sprained. She said it would be sore for a couple of days but then should be fine. She was more worried about the deep abrasions. "These are going to leave some scars." After putting large gauze bandages on the two worst scrapes, Scully wrapped Emma's wrist in an ace bandage. "How does that feel?"

"Good, thank you."

"Not too tight."

"No, it's fine."

"Okay. Use the ace bandage for a couple of days then just be very careful with your arm. The bandages need to stay on until the abrasions are completely scabbed over."

Frohike took Emma back to the house. He wanted her to sleep undisturbed by the goings on at the warehouse since it was now nearly dawn.

Late the next morning, Frohike found Emma standing in front of the bathroom mirror struggling with her hair. "Here, let me help you."

"No, that's all right. I can do it."

"You can't do it one handed. And where is the bandage Scully gave you?"

"I took it off to take a shower. I'll put it back on when I'm done here."

"Go get it. Let's do it right now."

She came back with the ace bandage and handed it to him. He put the lid down on the toilet seat and had her sit down. He looked closely at her arm. The abrasions were already healing but Scully was right; they would probably leave scars. His guilt level over the whole event increased. He wondered, and not for the first time, how much of parenting was guilt driven. "Emma, I'm really sorry you got hurt. I never wanted to hurt you. Ever."

"I know, Dad but if you don't stop apologizing, I'm not going to let you play with the bandage anymore." Her arm did hurt but she blamed her own misjudgment of the situation the previous night. She knew it would do no good to argue with him but she wished he would stop telling her he was sorry.

With her arm rewrapped he had her turn sideways so he could reach the back of her head. Taking the brush, he worked on the snarls she had missed. "Dad, really, you don't need to worry about my hair. I can always have Langly do it for me or maybe Yves if she's around. At least they both have long hair and might know how to put it in a pony tail."

Frohike stopped brushing for a moment and bent forward so she could see his face. "Who says I don't know how to put hair in a pony tail?"

"But you always keep your hair short," Emma said as he continued brushing.

"I do now but it hasn't always been that way. I used to wear it in a pony tail."

Emma started laughing. "Yeah, right. Sure you did."

"I did," he insisted. "Ask Byers or Langly."

"Ah, they would agree with you just to bug me."

Frohike started pulling her hair up to the spot she where she usually put her pony tail. "Let's see. I believe the last time my hair was that long was when we were at the convention in Vegas. That was 1999, I think. It's been a long time. Maybe I should grow it out again." He wrapped the elastic around her hair making it tight enough that it wouldn't slip. He snugged it up to her head. "Tell me what you think."

Emma got up and looked in the mirror, turning her head back and forth to see the sides. It was perfect. "That's great. Thank you." Maybe he was telling the truth.

Things were pretty calm at the warehouse when father and daughter arrived. Mulder was there as well as the usual suspects but they were still waiting for Yves to show up so they could decide on their next move. She arrived shortly after Frohike and Emma.

As the debate started on how they should proceed, Emma decided to fade into the background. They knew she was there but she was becoming a little overwhelmed by the whole thing and her arm hurt. She chose to go sit down on the couch to watch TV and let them work it out. They would take care of it. She had faith in that fact.

Doggett and Reyes arrived in the early afternoon. Emma still kept to herself letting the large group of adults work out the details. Monica came to talk to her for a short time. Emma had to explain what happened to her arm. She found it a little embarrassing to talk about because she didn't want anyone to think ill of her father. It was an accident after all.

Everything was finally settled. People went off to pursue their own interests until late in the evening. They planned on meeting back at the warehouse after dark. Emma went home with Mulder. She would stay with Scully for the night.

Scully and Mulder worked at keeping Emma busy. While Mulder was still there, he played computer games with her but her arm bothered her too much to play the types of games she really enjoyed. Those required two working arms to do a good job. Fortunately, she was right handed so some of the internet arcade type games were doable.

William wanted to play with her but she couldn't pick him up and he didn't understand why. She got him to play with cars on the floor with her for a short time but Scully put an end to it when she noticed how often Emma was wincing in pain.

Concerned, she checked the child's arm a second time and saw that it was no worse than before. It took very little convincing to get her to take some Advil and go sit and read for a while.

After dinner, Mulder left to join the guys and Yves at the warehouse. Scully put William to bed. "It's movie time," she announced once the tyke was asleep. "How does popcorn sound?"

"Something like this: pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop!" Emma said with a grin.

Scully shook her head. "Oh, you poor thing. You've been living with the four stooges for too long."

"Ah, they're not that bad. Why, just the other day, we had a long, intellectual discussion of the finer points of the movie 'Terminator'."

"Was that the original or the sequel?"

"Well, T2 of course. The special effects were far superior and the bullet count is way up there!" Obviously, the Advil had helped ease the pain in her wrist. Emma was in a much lighter mood.

"I think what you need is an evening of female influence. You go get the nail polish, while I put the popcorn in the microwave and search for the ultimate chick flick."

After painting each other's toenails, they sat down to eat popcorn and watch Enchanted April on video. "Mulder hates this movie. He says nothing happens in it."

Emma had never seen it before. "It's so beautiful. It makes me want to go to Italy."

"Me, too. I got Langly to look on the internet for the villa they used in the movie. It's a museum in Portofino but there are several other places near there where you can stay."

Emma had been leaning against Scully so they could share a blanket and the bowl of popcorn. She sat up and turned to look at Dana. "What if you and I go there someday? When I'm old enough and my dad will actually let me spend my money, I would like us to go to Italy together."

Scully smiled at the girl's youthful dream of adventure thinking wistfully of all she had given up over the years for her job and now her family. When Emma was old enough to do as she wanted, William would be old enough to leave for as long as such a trip would take. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Me, too," Emma said leaning back against her friend.

Mulder and Frohike found them in this position. The bowl of popcorn was empty except for a few grannies. The tape in the VCR had run out, leaving the TV nothing but snow and faint static. The light from the screen cast flickering shadows over their sleeping forms and other objects in the room.

"Well, so much for a sensible bedtime," Frohike said in a low voice. "Do you want to wake them up or should I?"

"The pleasure can be all yours," Mulder said.

Frohike chuckled and whispered, "Ladies." He shook Emma's knee through the blanket. She began to stir but just turned more towards Scully, resting her cheek against the woman's arm. He tried again. "Emma, come on. You either need to go to bed or get up and come home with me."

"Dad?" That was more like it. "You're here. Why are you here?" She wasn't completely awake yet. Scully sat up straighter on the couch trying not to jostle Emma too much.

"Frohike, where's Mulder?"

"Right here. Were you two enjoying the show?" He pointed at the TV. Scully reached for the remote and turned it off, plunging the room into darkness. Mulder flipped on a lamp.

Shading her eyes against the light, Emma looked up at her dad and remembered what he had been doing that evening. Suddenly, she was fully awake. "Dad, what happened? Did you get it? Where is it?" She looked from one man to the other searching for some sign that they had been successful.

Frohike put his hand on her shoulder, smiling warmly. "We did it. We got everything we needed. The painting was there. We photographed it. Now all I need to do is develop the pictures."

"You took pictures? You didn't leave it, did you?"

"Yes, I'm afraid we did."

"Dad! You said you were going to get it back! Not just take pictures of it!"

"I know what I said. But after we talked about it, we decided that it would be better to let the authorities handle it. With the evidence we have, the cops can throw this guy in jail. If we just brought the painting out, what would keep him from hiring someone to steal it again?"

"Well, that's true," Emma admitted but she was still disappointed that they did not have the painting in hand.

"The FBI will go in tomorrow, arrest the man, and return the painting to its rightful owners." Frohike reassured her. "Now, you might as well come home with me since you're awake and still dressed."

Frohike developed the pictures that night. Early the next morning, Doggett came and got them. He needed them to get the search warrant.

At about 3:00 PM that afternoon, Frohike got a phone call. "You did? That's great." Pause. "We're on our way." He turned to look at the others. "Let's go."

Emma assumed she wasn't invited so she didn't get up from the computer she was playing at. "Emma, are you coming or not?"

"You mean I can?"

"Yup, your expertise is needed."

"For what?"

"Oh, you'll see," Frohike told her. The others wouldn't tell her either. Everyone piled into the VW bus.

They arrived at the house of the art collector to find the area crawling with FBI agents, the local police and TV reporters. Each reporter had a van with a satellite transmitter extended from its roof. Some were giving live reports and others were just taping the goings on. Byers got the VW bus as close to all the action as he could. They all had to get out and walk the rest of the way.

They were stopped by yellow police tape and had to wait there for a few minutes with the other curious onlookers. It was all very exciting to Emma. She was happy to just stand by and watch. She had overheard enough of the live reports going on around them, to know that the FBI had recovered the painting. In all the excitement and confusion, she missed the fact that her father was making a phone call.

A minute or so later, Agents Doggett and Reyes met them where they stood waiting behind the police barrier. They were both wearing blue windbreakers with FBI stencilled in large yellow letters on their backs. Doggett lifted up the tape and the Gunmen and Emma walked under it. Confused by all this, Emma decided to just wait and see what was going to happen, just as her father had suggested.

The two FBI agents led them to a spot close to the house where a command post had been set up. Several other agents were consulting each other or talking on cell phones. Doggett put his hand on Emma's shoulder separating her from the Gunmen and guiding her towards the man who seemed to be in charge. "Assistant Director Skinner, this is the expert we were talking about." The tall, bald man looked down at Emma. A surprised expression flashed quickly across his face. 

"Agent Doggett, is this some kind of joke?" Skinner asked. Mulder joined the group.

"Nope, that's her all right," Mulder said. "She's the one who told me about the faeries."

Emma stared at Mulder in disbelief. He had obviously told this man her deepest, darkest secret. And he was an Assistant Director of the FBI, whatever that meant, but he sounded important. He looked important.

Skinner looked down at the child standing in front of him and the four men standing behind her. He should have known that the Lone Gunmen would be involved in this. From what Mulder and Reyes said, she belonged to one of them. He wasn't sure which one but right now, he was more interested in confirming the authenticity of the most recently stolen painting. His agents and Mulder said she could do it. He hadn't expected her to be so young. He turned to the former FBI agent who had made his life hell for so many years. "Mulder, take her in. See what she says."

Mulder held out his hand to Emma. She turned to her father. He nodded, "Go with him, honey, it's okay. Just let him know if it really is your painting."

"It's not mine," she repeated weakly but took Mulder's offered hand and allowed him to lead her into the house.

"Don't worry, kid. You'll be fine," he assured her. "I just want to know what you see when you look at the painting."

Emma didn't say anything. She did cling tightly to his hand though, accepting the comfort if offered. The two of them passed several agents on their way through the house and down into the basement. Many of them were carrying paintings or sculptures or other types of artwork. Emma noticed that most of them seemed to have something to do with the military.

The pair reached the basement vault. The thick heavy door was wide open. Mulder asked everyone to clear out and give them some privacy. When they were alone, Mulder led Emma into the vault. She didn't like it in there. She felt like she couldn't breath. She took a deep breath to check if her asthma was acting up. It wasn't. It was just claustrophobic in the chamber.

She scanned the large, steel enforced enclosure and spotted the huge painting leaning against one wall. Forgetting her feelings of claustrophobia, Emma let go of Mulder's hand and walked over to the painting. It was nearly as tall as she was. She studied it. The Scotsmen still stood defiantly, facing death head on.

And yes, it was there: that feeling that she could step into it and join them in their moment of victory. She smiled and turned to look up at Mulder. Movement caught her eye, above and behind his head. She laughed. Mulder turned to see what she was looking at. He saw them, too. Emma laughed again and said, "You're welcome."

It was party time. Everyone went over to Emma and Frohike's house to celebrate. The Gunmen, Mulder and Scully, Doggett and Reyes and Emma were all in attendance. Yves was there, too. Emma asked her why she hadn't been around earlier in the day. Yves gave some vague excuse about her presence being required elsewhere that afternoon. Emma didn't believe her but chose not to pursue it. She was there to celebrate with them. That's all that mattered now.

Full of dinner and more than a little beer, the loud laughter and excited retelling of the events that led up to the recovery of the painting had given way to relaxed conversation. The main point of the discussion was how best to write up the story. It would be the headline of their next edition. It was due at the printers in the next day or two, so they would have to put in some intense hours to get it done on time. But with a story this big, it would nearly write itself. Reyes offered some suggestions as to different angles they could use for it. The others were surprised to find out that she had taken some journalism classes in college.

Once they had exhausted that subject, Doggett decided to pose the question uppermost in his mind. "Have you heard how much your reward is?"

They all turned to stare at him. Byers was the first to find his voice. "Reward? OUR reward?"

It was Doggett's turn to be surprised. "The reward you applied for. You did apply didn't you?"

Langly shook his head. "We haven't even talked about it."

"I applied for it in all of our names," Yves said with a smile.

Frohike stared at Yves in shock. "You? In all of our names?" Then turning to Doggett, he asked, "How much of a reward are we talking about?"

"I'm not sure," admitted Doggett. "They're still adding it up. But with the amount of stolen artwork that was found in that vault it looks like it will be a considerable amount. Even after you divide it up." He laughed at the looks on their faces. "Well, then the next question should be what are you going to do with all of the money?"

**At the very end of the summer, I went to England with a friend. But that's another story.**


End file.
